Revolution
by chucknotsteve
Summary: [Unsuited Vader – Luke – Leia] When the dark lord himself stumbles on a bar on Tatooine, he runs into someone who might change his life forever... Starts out ten years after ROTS. Very AU
1. meetings

Revolution

* * *

_A/N_: When I wrote Cries, I realized how much I like writing about young Luke and Leia. 

_Disclaimer_: Everything belongs to 'ole George Lucas. Not me

* * *

He tapped his pencil on his desk. It started slowly at first, and then it grew louder, faster. He couldn't take it. He could never take such lessons in school – History class was his least favorite.

He'd heard his uncle and his aunt argue over whether to finally send him to public school – Beru agreed, Owen opposed. "He shouldn't know," Uncle had said, or rather yelled, "It's all lies, now. What they teach in school – _lies_, Beru. Lies."

He remembered hearing this through his door one night. Their arguments – they never happened. It was all about farming for the Lars'.

But he was a Skywalker.

"He's almost ten years old, Owen," she told her, her voice lowering, almost cowering, "He needs some friends. He has _none_. So _what_ if they fill his head with sawdust about 'The Jedi Purge' and the 'Empire'. He'll have to know sometime."

"Beru, I think he already knows about that," Owen said. Luke heard him sigh. "I guess… you're right. It's time."

They paused. Luke supposed they were nodding, or sitting down, ending the argument. "Do we change his last name?" Beru asked. "Anakin… he could be in their textbook, you know – I…"

"Beru, you know we don't speak about Anakin," Owen snapped. "Luke knows that he was a pilot – that's it." Owen obviously got up from his chair, peeved, "I'm going to bed. Goodnight."

Luke heard a door shut, then, and went back to sleep.

When Luke was about five, Owen had given him a toy starfighter for his birthday. It was the best gift he could've gotten – in comparison to the real thing, of course. When he had said thank you, climbing onto his uncle's lap, he called him 'Daddy'. That was the end, and the only time they had spoken about his father.

He was a great man, Luke was sure. He was a spice freighter, a pilot on the moons. A brave man – or so he thought. He knew limited information about his parentage, but what he did know he 'added' onto as a child. He had never spoken about his mother, either – she was another mystery, one that would be hard to find out.

So now, he was listening to his teacher, a human, speak about how 'terrible' the Jedi Purge was, and how many Senators and the Emperor himself were badly injured, the reason for the Emperor's deformity.

He couldn't stand it.

It was all lies – the Jedi did nothing wrong. And it was written in plain sight, too. The Jedi were slaughtered, betrayed, by none other than Chancellor Palpatine himself, and his army of clones.

Luke bravely raised his hand.

"Yes, Luke?" The teacher called.

He cleared his throat. "Do you believe that the Empire is a good system, ma'am?" He asked bravely. He was getting at something. Many snickers from around the room came out of this one question.

The teacher was taken back. "Excuse me, Luke?"

Luke smiled. "I certainly do _not_, ma'am," by the teacher's baffled expression, Luke continued on, "Aren't we allowed to have opinions? The _Empire_ doesn't _let_ us." He was speaking to the entire class now; no one seemed to listen.

"Just shut up, _Wormie_," a kid from the back of the classroom yelled.

Luke slid down in his chair, from the embarrassment from the class.

The teacher continued, completely ignoring Luke, "I'm assigning a project," there were many groans. "Oh, be quiet. I want you to choose a fallen Senator or someone who died during this _horrid_ event."

The words 'horrid' and 'event' hung over Luke's head. The only people who thought it was a 'horrid event' were the Jedi – the few left from the slaughter. He grabbed his books, his pencil, and his datapad, and head out the door.

* * *

The door swung open with his hard push, and his dark figure emerged followed by many of his clone followers. His minions – the people who were afraid of him most – were dressed in black as well, the highest rank for those clones that followed the Dark Lord. 

Luckily they had corrected his terrible burns, his lungs by the masterful cloning on Kamino. _If those damn clones didn't follow me everywhere maybe I'd have some alone time_, he thought. He wasn't ready to move on yet – but he could at least try… She had often told him that he was good looking, 'handsome', but maybe that was only because she was so in love with him.

_No! She wasn't in love with you, fool. She was a traitor – a rebel scum, _he told himself. But no matter how many times he told himself that, he wasn't sure if he believed it himself. _But she was – nothing could've forced me to kill my own __**wife**__, my love, other than her betrayal._

He sat himself in a bar stool, and called over the 'tender, rather rudely. The man simply cowered for a moment, seeing his yellow eyes grimace at him, waiting for him to take the lord's order. "Y – yes, milord?" He stuttered, obviously nervous.

He pointed to the man next to him. "I'll have what he's having," he told him, "Straight up."

The bar tender nodded, and rushed to get his drink, spilling some as he nervously brought it back to give to the dark lord. "Thank you," he said, getting him some credits as a tip. It wasn't often he found himself in a bar, especially on Tatooine, of all places.

After all, this was where he was born and raised. Where his mother died – where she was buried – where he began to doubt his feelings for his later-wife, who had denied everything about loving each other. _It's just…not possible_, she had said.

Actually, that was why he was here. To come and mourn – no, Sith don't mourn, they don't grovel. He had come to seek… guidance, from above, from the netherworld. Yeah, like _that_ was going to happen.

He'd been to his late wife's grave twice, and both times he had gotten so upset that he had to leave – but he wasn't upset with himself, no – he was upset with her. At least he kept telling himself that.

Taking a sip of his… well, he didn't know, he felt something familiar burst through the doors. He looked over his shoulder, hiding his interest, noticing that it was just a small boy, probably ten years of age, looking upset and carrying a load of books pressed to his chest.

For some reason, the force had called _him_ to this very boy. He watched as the boy angrily pushed himself in an empty booth and spread out his books and his datapad on the table in front of him. No one bothered to take his order – he was obviously a regular, but never came to eat or drink. The boy had something about him that reminded him of himself at that age: young, innocent, naïve, bored – wanting something else.

But this boy was upset. He was either angry, sad, or a nasty mixture of both. He wiped a tear from his cheek, seemingly hoping that no one would see that he was crying.

Then, the boy looked around. Up at the ceiling, down at his feet, and over to the bar – and something hit the dark lord.

His eyes.

The boy's eyes.

Blue. _Piercing_ blue – like his used to be before he turned to the dark side for absolutely no reason at all except to save a woman from dying but that happened anyway. It struck him as odd that he was watching this boy – almost _stalking_ the kid – but then it didn't seem so weird.

The boy had his eyes. He didn't have all of his features, though – he had someone else's nose, and someone else's lips. Something gave him to urge to stand up from his seat and walk over to talk to him.

"Milord, your _tab_!" The bar tender called, seeing him walk away unpaid.

He waved him off, "I'm not leaving, sir." No, he was not leaving. He made his way over to the boy's booth, watchful eyes following him, clones suddenly cocking their guns. He knelt down to meet the boy eye level.

Normally, he wasn't nice. And he wasn't nice now. "Girl trouble?" The dark lord asked, kidding himself and those around him. The people and aliens around him laugh, some howled. Obviously this boy was _not_ well liked.

The boy wiped another tear. "Just leave me alone," the boy groaned, turning away from the lord. "You're, like, the fifth person who's said something mean to me today, you know."

A clone general suddenly appeared from behind him. "Milord, did this boy threaten you in any way?" He asked. "'Cause I'll take him out for you – "

"Nothing of the sort will happen, Commander," he interrupted, grabbing the clone's wrist and turning him around. "Just leave me alone," he mocked the boy's exact words, except he wasn't being tainted. The clone followed orders, walking off to join the rest of the lord's squadron.

The boy finally caught on, giving a second opinion on the yellow-eyed man. "Who are you?" He asked.

_Wow. He _is_ naïve. I was right_, he thought. The lord stifled a laugh. "Do you hear this?" He called attention to the rest of the bar. "He doesn't know who I am!" The entire contents of the bar exploded in forced laughter.

"Well, _excuse_ me if I don't socialize with those who are distrusting and, worst of all, have _yellow_ eyes," came the boy's 'comeback'.

He was suddenly listening. He invited himself in the boy's both, taking the other side of it. He looked deeply into the boy's eyes. "Darth Vader," he reached out, shaking the boy's hand with his mechanical arm. "Lord. Apprentice. Second in command, boy." He smiled flakily. "Who… might _you_ be?"

The boy wrapped himself around the lord's grip, untwining himself with such a master of evil. "You're responsible for the Empire?" He asked, hiding his feelings for such a thing.

"You could say that," he leaned back.

The boy collected his things, pushing them to his chest, and getting up from the booth. "Well, then, my name is unnecessary," he said, leaving.

He grabbed the boy's tiny arm, stopping him from going. "Wait!" He didn't mean to shout. "I _must_ know your name, boy. I know everyone around here, except _you_."

The boy looked down at the lord's grip. He immediately stopped, letting the boy free. "If you must know," he said smoothly. "Luke Skywalker."

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_A/N_: So, what did you think? Please click that purple-ish button and review! 


	2. dedication

Chapter 2

* * *

"Excuse me?" He spat, stepping one step away from the boy. "Please repeat."

He stuttered, looking Vader in the eye. They didn't look so yellow anymore, but a hint of blue. "Luke. Skywalker," he said matter-of-factly. "What's it to you?"

The dark lord coughed. "Do you have a… middle name, Luke?" He asked, still in shock.

Suddenly, the boy was afraid. Why did Darth Vader, dark lord of the Sith, care so much about a peasant boy, a mere farmer? "Uh – I think it's Anakin," he said, suddenly rambling. "But it only says that on the school roster."

_Anakin_, he thought, _it's not a popular name, yet this boy has it. It's written plainly_…The dark lord smiled, sneering, "Luke Anakin Skywalker. Is that a name from your father?" He asked. He didn't let Luke even answer the question. "How old are you, Luke?"

Luke smiled. "Ten, but almost eleven," he said proudly. "When I'm eleven I'll get to drive a – "

" – Land speeder," the dark lord finished. "You'll get your pilot's license, right?" He knew Tatooine's rules all to well. They had changed since twenty-two years ago – the laws had been altered, ever since coming in contact with the Empire and under it's rule. It was also almost eleven years ago that he had murdered his wife, and his child within the womb.

Or did he?

The boy nodded nervously.

"Do you live with you Mom, Luke?" He asked as carefully as he could. He could sense the boy's ultimate fear as of this moment, asking of his mother.

Luke gulped. "I know nothing of my mother, Lord Vader," he said, suddenly getting formal. "She died when I was born."

_Nothing? How could you know nothing of your mother? _He thought. _Maybe this is all a lie. _"What about your father?" He asked. The boy was obviously clueless.

Luke's shut his eyes briefly. "He died in battle, milord. He was a great man – or so I've _heard_."

Vader paused. Anakin Skywalker was a great man. He was a great leader, a great warrior, a great husband, a great friend – he could've been a great father, but he threw that away. "Yes," he said slowly, feelingly, "He was a great man."

Suddenly the boy wasn't at all frightened. In fact, his eyes lit up, and he looked at Vader with adoring eyes, and a bright smile, "You knew my father?"

"Oh yes," he answered, grabbing the boy by the arm. He smiled. "Everyone knew your father, Luke." He pushed Luke towards the clones. "Lock him in irons, Commander."

Vader could sense Luke's fear as he was pushed to the clones. His bright smiling face was gone immediately; Luke knew what was to become of him. He sensed the horror that he felt when they locked him the binders, and carried him away. _Fool, _he thought, _all too easy. Fear leads to the dark side, my _dear_ son._

* * *

He was on Tatooine for only one reason – to see his mother. He had stated previously that Sith Lords do not mourn, and they don't. They do _not_ remember the past, and hark on it. He needed to forget Padmé. Gods, it had almost been eleven years since her death.

But finding Luke changes everything.

If Luke _was_ his son, which was to be determined, that would change _everything_. But the boy had the package – the more he looked at him as he was being carried away, the more his features looked a little like Padmé's, as well. His eyes, hair, and his rebellious spirit were all entirely his father's – Anakin.

That was another thing. _"He died in battle, milord. He was a great man – or so I've heard." _Luke had said that. Anakin Skywalker was a truly remarkable Jedi Knight; there was no other like him that could match the speed and in intensity during the Clone Wars. But the dark lord wasn't Anakin anymore. The dark lord _was_ the dark lord, Vader.

Anakin was gone.

A part of Vader still thought Anakin existed, deep within, and sometimes came out when thinking about the past. He had so many great memories, beginning with his mother and ending with his angel, his wife, Padmé. So many events happened in between, though – some great and some terrible. When Obi-Wan let him use a lightsaber for the first time – _that_ was a golden moment. But every time he thinks of his mother's death – if he was an hour, a minute earlier…

"We're here, milord," the clone stated as the land speeder pulled up to the moisture farm.

Vader murmured thank you's, waving the clones off. He had no recollection of whether or not Owen Lars and his girlfriend, Beru, still resided here, but it had the looks as though the farm was still in operation. He weighed on whether to greet them, telling them that he was here (like there was anything _they_ could do to stop him), but they were all ready outside.

Vader suddenly wondered if Beru was Beru _Lars_ now. They didn't notice him – they seemed to be having an argument.

She was screaming now, "Are you _sure_ he didn't tell you about staying after school today, or something?"

Owen sneered. In defeat, he sat down on the ledge and pressed his hands to his face. "No, Beru," he said through his palms, grudgingly. "He was supposed to be _home_ – like he is _everyday_ – after school at _300_ hours."

That was two hours ago. Almost the same amount of time that he last saw Luke, and carried him away. It was too much of a coincidence. "Owen, Beru," he greeted, making them turn around to face him. Saying their names was his way of saying hello.

At first, they were speechless. He hadn't changed much over time – his hair was darker and longer, but something about him was… different. _Wait; wasn't he supposed to be dead?_ "Anakin?" he coughed. "Anakin _Skywalker_?"

The dark lord faked a smile. "Surprised?" he seemed happy, peppy. But he wasn't. He face quickly turned dark. "_I_ wouldn't be." He looked around him, the bright, open sand dunes seemingly never ending. "Love what you've done to the place, Owen. It seems as much of a wasteland as it was the last time I was here. Wait – let's see – when was that? Fourteen years ago?"

Owen nodded his head, not frightened by his dark humor. "Yes," he said. "I believe so, Anakin."

He looked in the distance. "No, not anymore – don't you watch the HoloNet?" Vader returned his stare blankly at his half-brother, looking him up and down with his yellow eyes. "So are you two – " he used his hands to make motions, pointing to both of them, "Married?"

Beru couldn't stand Anakin's constant bickering. She decided to fight back: "Yes, actually," she said wryly. "I believe it's something you and a certain senator did fourteen years ago, as well?"

She watched it as his face went dark, shadowy. His eyes flickered from yellow to blue, thinking about his wife… He spoke slowly, sadly, "How… did you know about… that?"

Owen and Beru exchanged nervous glances. They ignored his comment. "Why exactly are you here?"

Vader cleared his throat. "My mother is buried here," he stated simply, "I came to visit her grave, thank you."

"Oh," Beru said. She paused, turning to go, and had one last thought, "Oh, and Anakin?"

Vader didn't answer. "That name no longer has any meaning to me, Beru," he said finally, sadly. He crouched down next to his mother's grave, tracing her craved name with his fingers.

She turned to leave, muttering, "I thought so, Anakin."

* * *

"Hey, hey!" Luke yelled, struggling with the clones that had their hands on his arms. He pushed them away, but there was no use – he was cuffed, and being thrown in a prison cellar. "You can't do that to – hey, wait! Wait!"

His wrists were granted freedom, and the cuffs were gone. The door closed automatically, and the clones disappeared.

_Aunt Beru and Uncle Owen are going to be so mad at me_, he thought. "I guess I should just sit down," he muttered to himself, sitting on the bench that was laid out on the back wall.

Hours later (but what _seemed_ like days later), he heard footsteps coming down the hallway, then a few buttons being pushed, and then – the door opened.

"Hello, Luke Anakin Skywalker," the man that Luke had met previously that day said.

He hated him. He hated that man – his yellow eyes, his dark clothing, and his oversized boots – _hated_. For one, he made fun of him in front of the entire Mos Eisley cantina. Two, he had that… feeling about him that made Luke feel uncomfortable. He only got this 'feeling' around certain people, usually intergalactic gangsters or pirates.

Not ordinary men.

But this man wasn't ordinary: he told him that he was an apprentice. A lord. Second in command, he had said. What in kriff but 'second in command' mean? This man was probably affiliated with the Empire…

But there was also something familiar about him…

Luke smiled weakly. "Hello, Darth Vader."

Vader motioned to the open space next to Luke. "Mind if I…?"

He shook his head. Then, he dropped the bomb, "Why am I here, '_Lord Vader_'?" He watched Vader's expression change.

Before this, he was ultimately sad, then – he saw Luke's face and…

No. He wouldn't become weak at the sight of a child. _Younglings…I've killed younglings but I can't look at my own son without becoming Anakin Skywalker again?_ "You have something about you, Young Skywalker," he told him, not exactly lying, "that captivates me. You – you are one of the few left that is force sensitive."

"Like a Jedi?"

Vader grinded his teeth, then said, "Why not?" He stifled a smile.

"Will I get to go back to the farm, Vader?" He wasn't afraid to use the Sith's name in vain – it was appealing to Vader, even. He wasn't afraid. _Just like his mother…_

Why did Padmé all of a sudden appear in everything that he thought of? Luke _was_ like some journey to the past… he brought back memories of himself that he had merely forgotten. But just because the child survived doesn't mean Padmé did – and that was all that he cared about.

Palpatine had told him that _he_ had killed Padmé. But how was that possible – she was definitely still with child when she had betrayed him on Mustafar. So how was this possible? How was Luke here, _alive_, and not Padmé?

Suddenly, Vader spat, "Where were you born, Luke?" He faced the boy, eye to eye.

Reluctantly, he snapped, "A medical ward on some asteroid… Polis Massa, I think." He was on edge unexpectedly.

"Is your mother alive?"

Luke sighed. "You've already asked me that, Lord Vader," he said, whining. "No, I told you – my mother died when I was born. She died in childbirth, I think. I don't know much about her."

It was a stab. A stab in the heart – she had died. She had died because he wasn't there… he wasn't there, and Palpatine had lied about the power to stop people from dying. It was uncontrollable. "_The story is only a myth, my apprentice_," he had told him once, at the year anniversary of her death.

"Are you okay?" Luke turned to look him in the eye. Vader's head was now hung, defeat. Sadness.

Vader sprung up, on edge as well. "Yeah, yeah," he replied nervously. He collected his cape, making sure not to step on it, and ran his fingers through his hair. "I'll see you at dinner, Luke."

Then he left.

* * *

_A/N:_ Please review, guys! Thanks so much for the awesome feedback! 


	3. contained

Chapter 3

* * *

The door squeaked open, disappearing in the left wall. Two clone troopers followed shortly after, carrying what seemed like… a needle?

Luke, like any kid, never liked doctor's appointments. He only went when he was truly sick – which was almost never, because he usually denied the fact that he was a common cold or a hoarse cough. He, especially, didn't like needles.

Which is exactly why he was suddenly frightened. "Hey – what are you doing with that?!" He defended, scooting himself back against the wall, trying to make himself as a small as possible. "You can't – I…"

He couldn't find an argument that would make them back down. "Hold still, Skywalker," the clone told him through his helmet. "This may hurt."

Luke usually had someone's hand to hold. Not here. Not now. _Gods, I'm almost eleven and I can't stand needles?_ He thought. _No, this is _perfectly_ normal. Of course!_ Then there was speculation on _why_ they were giving him a shot. Wasn't it time for dinner?

"Ow," came Luke's one-word response. When it was over, the clone's nodded, examining the blood contained in the hatch on the needle. "Why'd you do that?" He whined, rubbing the spot where they had drawn blood.

The clone shrugged from under his armor. "Sorry, sir," he told him. "Orders from Lord Vader."

'_Lord Vader' my – _

"Oh, a sir?" The clone got his attention. "He'll see you at dinner now." The clone nodded, motioning for Luke to go out the door.

Rubbing his arm, Luke followed. They took him down a corridor of black wall plating, but white tile floors. It was indeed a _sterile_ place. "Hey," Luke said, getting the attention of the troopers. "Is the emperor here?" He didn't know why he wanted to know; it just seemed fitting to ask.

The clones exchanged glances, and there was muffled laughter from underneath their helmets. "The emperor? Here?" One said. The other just laughed even more, almost mockingly.

Luke blushed.

They led him to the starch white door at the end of the corridor. It was heavily locked – well guarded. "Just go inside," a clone told him. "You're _expected_."

_This is like a death sentence, _Luke thought wryly, stepping inside the now open door. There, Vader waited, already seated, the table set nicely with fancy folded napkins and such. As if he didn't move fast enough, a clone trooper pushed him on his back, "Hey!" Luke screeched.

The dark lord huffed. "Trooper, what's your identification number?" He cocked an eyebrow, eager for the clone's response.

He answered immediately. "TX-926," he said.

"Very well," Vader replied, fiddling with his fork, placing his napkin on his lap. "Don't ever treat Luke Anakin Skywalker with disrespect again. Are we clear?"

"Y – yes, sir," the clone stuttered, scampering out of the room, the other following close behind.

Luke took his seat next to Vader. It was very odd – why was he all of a sudden treating him with respect? What did he do to change the way the dark lord acted today in the bar? "What was the about?" He asked.

Vader smirked. "A man can't defend another man?"

Luke sunk in his seat slightly. "You didn't bother to trust that 'kind' action on me this afternoon," he retorted.

The lord frowned. Luke was feisty – he had the temperament of his father when he was that age. "Lets change the subject, shall we?" He said, forcing a smile. "What are you hungry for? We have _everything_…"

"_Everything_?"

Vader nodded. "Yes, actually. It's rather enjoyable when you're in a terrible mood," he said truthfully. "Especially with a stomach like mine. The only way I stop is when there's nothing left in front of me."

Luke made no move to say anything. He looked down at his hands, which were in his lap. Vader could tell his eyes were sad – he was missing something.

"Are you okay, Luke?" This was one of the first signs of compassion that he had shown in many years – over a decade, actually.

"No, I'm really not," he said unexpectedly. "You kidnapped me from my home. You locked me in a prison cell for hours. You come to interrogate me, and then you send someone to come and draw blood." Luke was looking in the dark lord's eyes now. They did the same thing they did before – they flickered from blue to yellow, and back again.

"Well, Luke – "

He wasn't finished. "And why do you use my full name when you speak to me? Is it because you knew my father – and he meant a lot to you?"

Vader sighed. When Luke just yelled at him – he realized… "Look, Luke," he said. Luke didn't look at him. Vader used his gloved hair to pull his chin to face him. "I told you why. You have something special about you. You… you are… _special_ to me…?" He was just spit ballin' – he didn't know what to say.

He could only play dark lord for a while longer…

"_Special_?" Luke spat. "What in the five binary systems does that mean?" He put his napkin on his plate, offering that he would _not_ eat here under any circumstances…

"Luke, you won't have to stay in the prison cell anymore," Vader coaxed. He stayed calm, as calm as a Sith lord could get. "I'll get you a – a room, Luke."

He ignored Vader's honest offer. "Do my aunt and uncle know that I'm here? No," he said, answering his own question. He pressed his hands to his temples. "I've got to go _home_…"

_Home? Aunt and Uncle – Luke lives with his Aunt and Uncle? _It all made sense now. When he was at the moisture farm, Beru and Owen were arguing about _Luke_. How _Luke_ wasn't there. Why didn't he see it before? "You live with your aunt and uncle?" He asked.

Luke nodded. "I believe that we covered the fact that my mother is dead and so is my father," he said, not looking up. "Do we have to revisit that fact?"

"When… who brought you there?" He asked.

"A friend of my father's," he mumbled. "After both my parents died, I didn't have a guardian."

_What about Padmé's family? Why couldn't he have gone there instead? _"Luke, what was your mother's name?" He asked as casually as possible.

Could he possibly not know his own _mother's_ name? "I – um… I don't know her name, Vader," he answered. "But she was a Senator."

_Aha! More proof…_ "Have you ever looked her up on a database, Luke?" He asked.

Luke pondered. "No, I – um," he said, suddenly realizing he was asking ridiculous questions. "Why do _you_ care?"

Vader sat back in his seat, content with Luke at the moment. "Care? Ha!" Vader cracked his knuckles. _Now all I have to do is wait for those blood samples to come back… _"Luke, get up. I'll have one of my guards to escort you to your new quarters," he ordered. "You're of no use to me now. You'll meet my tomorrow morning at 500 standard time. I'll show you something," Vader smiled evilly.

Luke stood up, and cast Vader a menacing look. Then, he walked out the door, in tow of one of the human guards. The door closed behind them.

* * *

The guard had jet black, greasy hair straight from a holocomic. He wore the standard gray suit, required attire. He had a patch over his eye. He didn't look at Luke, just straight ahead.

"Uh, hello?" Luke said, at his small attempt to be kind. His stomach growled – Vader had ordered him to leave before Luke could even grab a piece of bread.

The guard stopped dead, and turned to face him. "Hello," he said, looking the boy up at down. "You're absolutely filthy, boy."

And he was. His tunic from earlier that day was dirt ridden, and he even _felt_ gross from being contained in a small area for over 2 standard hours. "I'm hungry, too," he told him, smiling. Vader had told him that there was food – lots of it. Did that mean he could have some?

"I can get you something to eat," the guard to him. "But I don't know about your clothes… no one here wears that size." The boy was awfully small, bony – he was skinny and short. "Come with me."

He led Luke down another hallway, and into a room that had a porthole on the door. It was a kitchen with a full refrigerator and bar, and… cookies. "Can I choose… what I want?" He asked.

The guard obviously was soft for children, and said, "If you have a glass of milk." He smiled.

"I'm Luke, by the way," he said, taking the cover off a round of cookies. "Luke Skywalker."

The guard smiled. "I know," he said. "_Everyone _knows." He watched the boy's excited expression dawn over. "I'm Gregor. Have a seat, Luke Skywalker."

* * *

Vader pressed replay on the holo clip for the fourteenth time. Why did he find this so captivating? His dead wife's funeral – it wasn't enjoyable to watch; yet he needed to see it over again.

The entire planet of Naboo was mournful that day. The weather even responded to the sadness by raining. Her whole family had been there: mother, father, sister, brother-in-law, nieces, grandmother – everyone. They followed her open casket dressed in black.

He had always worn black. Even during the days when he was a Jedi. He had gone against the strict Jedi brown tunic and worn a black one, with a black cloak. It wasn't like he was 'honoring' the dead, though. He just liked the color black.

Which is why he fit in at Padmé's ceremony. He didn't follow the casket with the rest of the family, no – he followed her with his eyes as he watched on the sidelines from the back of the mobs of people. Oh, how he wished he could've said one more thing to her…

He had called her a liar for saying 'I love you'. She couldn't have loved him, though – she had brought his master to come a kill him. No, it wasn't right. He had done the right thing by choking her… right?

Wrong.

He knew it was wrong.

He pressed replay again.

* * *

_A/N_: Again, thank you everyone for the amazing reviews! Thanks for the great feedback! 


	4. parents

Chapter 4

* * *

_A/N_: Sorry for the prolonged update. I haven't been on the computer for a while, seeing as it is that I finished the new Harry Potter book! I apologize, but it was a good book...

* * *

Luke rose bright an early the next morning, only to find a clean tunic to be lying at the foot of his bed. He got up, brushed his teeth, combed his hair – and went over to examine said 'tunic'. 

It was black.

Not that a black tunic was weird, or anything. Oh, actually – it _was_ weird. For people who spent their entire life on Tatooine, where everyone is the same color as the sand, wearing a black tunic was a way for you to stand out and attract yourself to the blistering heat of the desert planet.

But his clothes _were_ filthy – he needed to put this on. And, plus, he actually wanted to see Lord Vader today. He said he wanted to show him something. He suspected it had something to do with his parentage, either his father or his mother. Vader seemed to pester him about them a lot.

When he met Vader in the west wing that morning, the lord seemed a bit on edge. It was as if he was _excited_… or something. _Excited? No! Evil dark lords don't get excited about meeting ten year-old boys, _Luke thought.

"Good morning," Vader said, rather monotonous.

"What's so good about it?" Luke snapped.

Vader sighed. "You're right," he said, same tone. "Bad morning to you, Luke."

Luke noted that Vader didn't say 'Luke Anakin Skywalker' again. _He's changed, _he thought, _that's why he so happy. _He looked over Vader's shoulder. He was typing something into the database, somehow searching for a holo report. "What are you doing?" He asked, curious.

"Researching those that died in the Jedi Purge," Vader answered.

Luke's jaw clenched. _Jedi Purge?_ He thought. _The Jedi weren't involved in any other the Chancellor's business – why couldn't the rest of the galaxy, the universe, realize that this was a hoax? _He was very opinionated all of a sudden – he wanted to scream and shout at Vader, telling him that everything was _his_ fault.

And everything was.

The dark lord could sense Luke's anguish. The boy knew a lot for his age, Vader decided. "You're angry about that?" he questioned.

The boy crossed his arms over his chest, sort of distained. His sandy blonde hair fell over his eyes as he looked down at his shoes; they reflected in the squeaky-clean tile underneath them. "You're a lot wiser than you take yourself for, Vader," Luke said, meaning every word.

Vader was astounded to hear these words repeated out of the boy's mouth. He had never been wise, even in his Jedi days. It was a misconception – a simple flaw, a first impression… he was never wise…

But it was a compliment.

"Er – _uh_… thank you, Luke," Vader said, grudgingly, not knowing what else to say. He wanted to ask _why_ he was considered _wise_ all of a sudden, but he didn't bother – compassion was something for the past, and never to be dawned upon again.

The boy nodded.

Vader pointed to the screen, seemingly to keep his mind off the 'likeness' that he was getting from Luke. "See that?" He pointed to a symbol – a simple symbol, Luke couldn't distinguish what it was. Luke nodded. "It means that this person,_ dead_," he said that was fear behind his voice, Luke could tell, "was a Senator."

"My mother?" He said. He seemed eager, and stood on his toes so he could see the screen. The blue light glowed onto his face.

"No," Vader snapped.

Luke gulped, standing down. "Oh," he suddenly regretted getting excited; maybe he wouldn't get to see who his mother really was today…

"I'm just showing you what the other… Senators," he said, "looked like." Vader wasn't aggravated, it was odd – usually by now if someone had been eager, excited, they would be on their deathbed, or already dead.

But not Luke – he was 'special'.

Vader clicked around the system, the many faces of the fallen Senators coming and going on the screen, somehow mending together with the swiftness of Vader's clicks. "Ah," the dark lord muttered, but loud enough for Luke to hear. "Here we are."

Luke had been previously occupied with tying his shoe, for he had become bored with Vader's hastiness. He had sprung up with the dark lord's few words, and joined Vader at his side.

The woman on the screen was beautiful. Breathtakingly _beautiful_, Luke decided. She was smiling in this one picture, but there was something behind her eyes… shadow? Fear? Her eyes, though – chocolate brown, as the description said. Her hair was fashioned into a weird 'do. It was sort of buns, actually, on either side of her head. No one, except royalty, wore their hair in such high fashion anymore. It was almost as if fashion was simply 'thrown out' after the War ended and the rise of the Empire took place.

It was clear that Luke had his mother's smile. And her height, for he was still short – he hoped that that would clear up when he reached puberty. The description said she was 5'1''… _She was very short for someone with such responsibilities_, Luke thought.

Luke looked up to see Vader turned away. He looked out the window at the passing stars, the passing planets, systems – he seemed distressed suddenly. Had he known his mother well, like he knew his father? He assumed so, because being friends with one usually constitutes you to be friends with another's spouse.

Vader noticed Luke stared. "When she didn't wear her hair up like that," Vader said, putting his obvious feelings behind him, like everything else, "She wore it down. It was naturally curly, actually."

Luke nodded. "Did you know her well, like my father?"

The dark lord sighed. "They weren't permitted to be together, Luke, so know one really knew them like… _I_ did. Actually, no one really knew of their marriage, except those who believe the stories of the HoloNet."

"Gossip stories?"

Vader nodded. "HoloNet was obsessive back them," he thought of the memory… something he hadn't done in a while.

A memory of him and Padmé together on a rooftop garden, and the news crew found them – together – and posted the story. _Just friends, right? _He remembered Obi-Wan asking. Anakin smiled a nodded. _Just friend, Master. Nothing more, nothing less. _

"But the stories were true, Lord Vader," Luke said. "About my parents. Their marriage – they were really bound together, right?" He asked.

Vader nodded slowly. "They married after the Clone Wars started, secretly, of course," the dark lord couldn't believe he was speaking about this. He'd never… to _anyone_… "On Naboo."

Luke didn't want to admit that he hadn't heard of this planet, for it was obviously important – Vader seemed to clue in that it was her planet, and she thought very fondly of it. After all, she was the Senator _for_ Naboo.

He started to read the biographical part of the file. Her mother raised her, her father was a university professor, and she had an older sister. Luke had an aunt!

Then, something very interesting caught his eye. Her funeral was held a day after his birth – the eleventh day in the calendar, winter. Yet, it said she died pregnant.

"Vader," Luke coughed. "She died – pregnant? Her funeral was a day after my birth, right? How could she _die_ pregnant?"

Vader sneered. "Good question, Luke," he said, placing his hand on Luke's hair. The boy swatted him away. "I actually wonder it myself, sometimes."

It didn't answer Luke's question. "But – I was… _born_." It was the easiest way to put this.

"Perhaps she was trying to hide you from the Empire, Luke Skywalker," Vader sneered. He suddenly hated Padmé Naberrie Amidala Skywalker for betraying him, depriving him from his own child.

"Perhaps," Luke agreed. "For good reasons," he huffed, turning to face Vader, his yellow eyes flaming.

"You know, _boy_," Vader roared, "I showed you who your mother _was_. It's an act that goes unnoticed by a normal Samaritan, but for a Sith, it one for the books." He gave one last look at Luke, and turned to go, his cape trailing behind him.

* * *

"Lord Vader!" came the knock at the door. The voice chirped uncontrollably. "Lord Vader! The test results came back!" 

The dark lord's anger banished when the heard his droid's word through the blast door. He got up, and punched the 'open' button. "Well, what are you waiting for?" He screamed to the droid, "Open the package, Heirback!"

Heirback 23 was a messenger droid, a stuffy, yappy robot who floated through the air. He had a purple eye and a big red one. Supposedly, messenger droids were the best – as said by the HoloNet – but Vader had yet to see the light in Heirback.

The droid fiddled with the package, finally getting it open after three tries to break the seal. The papers flew out, landing in Vader's hand, with help from the force. He threw a look at Heirback, who comprehended it as a compliment, and replied a simply "thank you", bowing in air.

The test came back as a bunch of bar graphs. Line graphs, too – but mainly bar graphs. It was many different colors: purple, blue, green, red. "What does it _mean_!?" Vader roared. "_Read_ it, Heirback!" He stuffed the papers in the droid's claws.

The droid scanned it. "Here, look Master!" He shoved the paper close to Vader's eye. "Right there!"

"Yes, Heirback," Vader replied through clenched teeth. "If it was a _little _closer I think it would _be caught_ in my _eyeball_, droid."

"Oh, right," Heirback reclined the papers, so Vader could actually read it. "I apologize, Master."

Vader read it. And he read the words over and over again, never stopping to seize the moment. Read, repeat.

He didn't know how long it was until he heard his droid chirp, "Orders, sir?"

Vader looked up from the papers, wide eyed and backwards. "Orders? Oh, yeah," he said, feeling silly and childish. He gulped, straightened up, placing the papers in his lap, and looked the droid in the eye. "Heirback, you no longer serve me."

"It's been a pleasure, sir. I – "

"You serve Luke Anakin Skywalker, in the room two doors down. He is your master now," he told the droid. "Take orders from him. Do as he says. He's one of us, now. View him as you do me; he is an equal to me."

"Y – yes, sir, Lord Vader," the droid stuttered. Heirback scurried out, as almost as if he was nervous.

The dark lord gulped. He had expected it. Why didn't he see this feeling coming? Why couldn't he feel like a Sith lord should feel when he realizes he could train a boy to become a Sith? Why didn't he feel the power of the dark lord, like he had felt for the past ten years?

Vader felt dryness in his throat, like right after you dry-swallow a pill. He ran his fingers through his dark curly hair.

For the first time in ten years, he actually felt… _happy_.

* * *

_A/N_: Thanks for the amazing feedback! 


	5. honors

Chapter 5

* * *

_A/N_: Sorry for the delay, again. I'm moving on the seventh of August, and the movers are coming on the thirtieth, so everything's got to be ready. I'll try to get back on a normal schedule, sorry!

* * *

"Whoa!" Luke shouted, thrown off by surprise. In the middle of undressing, his tunic was nearly off when the messenger droid opened the door and relieved him of _all_ embarrassment before this event. "What's a boy need to do to make someone _knock_?"

He pulled up his trousers, the top of his tunic covering the unspeakable areas that were previously uncovered.

Heirback made a sad noise. "I – I a – am _sorry_," the droid said. "Lord Vader has given me clear orders that you are now my Master." The droid straightened up.

"Oh," Luke said, his mouth forming the rather round shape. "Well, I'm Luke Skywalker. Pleasure to meet you." He said, turning around so that he could put back on his tunic.

Vader had presented him with a droid… many things had changes since the first time he and the dark lord met. At first, he was an evil, sinister man out to ruin the lives of boys who had enough problems, in the eyes of Luke Skywalker. Then, at dinner – he wasn't a prisoner anymore, he was just another Imperial – he was _equal_. Compassion set in and he showed Luke the first glimpse of his mother… then he became angry…

But sending him a droid? Was this some way of forgiveness?

"Erm – pleasure, too," Heirback seemed thrown off by the boy's kindness. Since he was a newer model of droid, he had a part two-based type of feelings, and he was very aware of the people's feelings around him. "Can I do anything for you?"

Luke cleared his throat. "Privacy would be nice," he said.

The droid scurried off.

"A droid!" Luke repeated. His very own _droid_ – one that spoke, one that mended to his needs, one that didn't just sit around like scrap metal and pretend to work of vaporators. He'd have to thank Lord Vader.

Or was that what this was all about. Forgiveness? Vader wanted forgiveness for the way he had acted before – no, it couldn't be. He had gotten angry because of Luke's arrogance…

He shrugged it off. He needed to get back _home_ – and soon – maybe this little droid could help!

"Heirback!" Luke squealed, almost proud of himself that he thought to use the droid, "_Heirback_!"

The droid flew back inside the small bedroom, attending to his new master's needs quickly, _too_ quickly, for he bumped into many things on the way, knocking over a very pricey marble statue of…an_ undetermined_ piece of art. "Y – yes, Master?"

Luke laughed at being called 'Master'. It was such a high rank for such a young boy. "Master?" It came out as a retort, but it wasn't meant to be. "_Master_? Nah, Heirback – just Luke."

Through his metal and his two multicolored eyes, it was an honor for Heirback 23. "Luke? Just Luke? If Lord Vader hears me calling you that…"

The droid's voice trailed off and was interrupted by Luke, "Don't worry about a thing," he said. "And don't be so afraid of Vader. He's really…" no words could fit it, "_something_."

Heirback made a sound equal to a human cough. "Thank you, M – Luke," he said. "Now, why did you call me?"

Luke smiled, sitting himself down on the bed. "Well, for one," he started, "Has Vader told you where our next destination will be? Or is there even a destination?" Didn't a starship like this need to stop to refuel? He hoped there was a way to get past Vader – to get past…

"Well, Luke," Heirback began, "We stop next at," he searched within his systems, "the system of Naboo. The reasons are unspecified, M – Luke." He did it again. He almost called Luke Master! He made a noise that was equal to a human frown.

"Unspecified?" Luke said, rhetorically. He sat there for a moment, and Heirback waited for him to say something. "Hmm," he said. "Thank you, Heirback. You may return to your other duties."

The droid was about to say that he didn't have any other duties, that this was his only master, but was interrupted by Luke again,

"Wait!" He yelled, catching the droid before he left, "Do you think – do you think you can help me?"

The droid moved closer to Luke. "Helping you with what? Like an assignment, like homework? Or an art project? Or something to do with – "

"No, Heirback," Luke was already getting annoying with the droid. "Help me – well – _escape_."

"Escape?"

"Shh!" Luke shut him up, making him lower his voice. "Yes. Leave. I have a home, you know." His eyebrow arched.

"You mean… this isn't your home, Luke?" The droid asked, suddenly confused. Being confused was in the nature of this droid, though. "I thought this was your quarters. I'm sorry I got it wrong, Luke."

"No!" Luke yelled. "No," his voice lowered. "I just – want to leave. Vader holds me hostage."

"Vader?" Heirback was surprised to hear the boy speak about this father in such tense. "Don't you mean your – "

Luke interrupted him again. "You know what? I have an assignment for you," he told Heirback, rather perkily. "An assignment you mustn't tell anybody about."

The droid nodded, leaning in.

"Find ever route out of the starship. The exits – _everything_."

* * *

There was a knock at the door. When did he fall asleep? Oh, right after he began to think about how he was all wrong, and maybe, just maybe she was alive again, and would take him in for whom he was now.

"Vader!" Came a childish voice from the other side of the door. "I know you're there – the droid told me!" He was awfully feisty for such a young age. _Oh, so like myself._

The dark lord got up groggily from his bed, running his fingers through his hair. _He has my hair, _he told himself. _My _son_ has my hair. _

The door opened and Luke came barging in, huffing past Vader and making himself comfortable on a nearby chair. He sat, looking up at the dark lord anxiously.

"What?" Vader said finally. "What do you want me to say?"

Luke bit his nail. "Why'd you give me a droid?" His voice was sincere; not at all aggravated.

"Because – uh," he didn't know what to say. He couldn't tell Luke that he was his father yet! He had to wait… for another time… "Uh – I thought you needed one. Since you'd be here for a long time, you know."

The boy nodded slowly. "Oh," came his reply. "So you've discovered that it's not all evil inside of you?" His voice had intentions of being cruel, but it never came. It was a child-like innocence that made Vader angry.

"Not quite," which was a lie. Anakin Skywalker has returned just briefly, after learning that Luke was his son, his child, that the child within his wife ten years ago hadn't died with her. There was hope that she was alive, alive and well – but he didn't count on it. Padmé wouldn't leave her son to live on Tatooine alone. Although they never talked about it during their marriage, she wanted children, he remembered.

"_I hoped to have a family of my own right now,"_ Padmé had said, all those years ago.

She would've been with him. Watching over him, at least. But, no – he hadn't felt her joyous presence that he had last felt when her ship landed on Mustafar.

"Not quite?" Luke's eyes bugged. "Not quite? Well, discover it soon, 'Lord Vader'. I know there's good in you. You've expressed it already."

Vader sneered. "Luke," he was about to say something, Luke could tell – is voice filled with rage, but obviously decided against it when he said, "That couldn't be the only reason why you came here, _boy_."

"You're right," he said. "It isn't." Luke paused, bringing his knees up to his chest. "I want to research my father on the database. You said everyone is on it, and he's a great warrior, a well known warrior, you said, and – "

"No," Vader said suddenly. "You can't look him up."

Luke suddenly felt very childish – Vader was acting like a father, telling him what not to do. "Why not?" he whined.

Vader couldn't find a legitimate answer… why? Why was this so hard? "Because," he finally said, hesitating. "He's not _in_ the system!" came his _glorious_ reply. He said it rather excitingly, like he was trying to convince himself. And he was.

"Why not?" He asked again, same tone.

"He's a Jedi; they aren't in the system," Vader said.

Luke noticed the present tense. "Wait – he's _alive_?"

"No," he said quickly, filling in. "I told you Luke, your father died in the Jedi Purge." There was a hint of regret there.

It occurred to Luke that he was parentless before, but, all of a sudden, he never felt so… _lonely_. He was _alone_, in a starship, surrounded by _traitors_. He didn't have his aunt, or his uncle. He didn't have his mother, who would've been an amazing mother, he was sure of it. He didn't have his father; he died fighting for freedom. He didn't have anybody.

Suddenly, Luke started to cry.

Vader became aware of Luke's sobs, and knelt down beside him. Suddenly, he was Anakin Skywalker again, attending to someone's needs…

Being a good person…

He frowned on this fact. He _was_ being a _good_ person – he put his arm around Luke, who made no move to be comforted by this… _stranger_. The worst part about it was that it didn't feel… _strange_. It occurred to him that it shouldn't feel strange, either – Luke was a part of him, a part of Padmé, whom he loved.

Suddenly, he _loved_ Luke.

And when Luke gave into him, when he put _his_ arm around his shoulders and waited for him to cradle him during this time, Luke loved him, too.

* * *

_A/N_: I wanted to sincerely thank everyone for the amazing reviews. Never have I ever had a story that people be so in to. It means a lot! Keep the feedback coming! Thanks, everyone! 


	6. no father of mine

Chapter 6

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_A/N_: It's the highly anticipated chapter! Please be sure you read every word, and don't skip over, please. While I work hard on the next chapter of 'Without You Here', I enjoy getting the reviews back! I'm trying to get back to everybody, but if I miss you, I formally apologize. Thanks for the feedback, everybody!

* * *

Another knock rang on the door. By this time, Luke's crying had silenced, and he was now silent, and didn't speak a word. He was still in the dark lord's arms, waiting for him to say something.

Darth Vader untangles himself from holding the boy, and got up to answer the door. "Admiral Piett," he said, seeing the man's form in front of him. "Hello."

"Lord Vader," Piett greeted formally. "I've been alerted by the cockpit that we've arrived on Naboo, and have landed in Theed."

"Thank you, Admiral," Vader said, closing the door behind him, watching Piett nod and continue to his duties down the hallway.

Luke wiped away the dried tears, hoping that his face wasn't red. "What are we doing on Naboo?" He asked innocently.

Vader pulled up a chair across from Luke. "Your mother," he said simply, assertively. _My wife_, he told himself. He wasn't sure his Luke had fully accepted him as a friend, a kind stranger – so he held back, not showing any move to become Anakin fully again.

"My mother?" He echoed. "What – ? Is she buried here, Lord Vader?" He asked these questions quietly, soothingly. His voice rang in Vader's ears as a calling from an angel, the child of Padmé Amidala and Anakin Skywalker.

Vader nodded. She was buried here, he hoped. He hadn't been to her grave since her death, since her funeral procession, since her open casket had scarred him. He had left flowers then – he was sure no one was around. He had also carved into her headstone – something he wished he hadn't done. Ironically, the name left was 'Anakin Skywalker'.

He wasn't sure who he was now. Luke had confused him. Yes, he'd still go back the surname of 'Vader', and still go by the orders of 'Vader'. But he wouldn't be the dark lord completely anymore – Luke Skywalker was now a part of his life. He was now a father, and the only why he could be a true father was to become Anakin Skywalker once again.

He wasn't sure whether he was ready to do that.

"Can – can I meet my family? My grandmother, my aunt – the file said I had one – can I?" He asked. He seemed eager; he obviously had never seen anyone outside of his desert planet before. Maybe they could –

Vader wouldn't be able to come. They had thought of Anakin Skywalker dead, which until previously, he was – they'd no his face. They would think that he killed their daughter, which, until previously, he had thought he had done so as well. "Luke, I – I wouldn't come with you," he told the boy. "I can't face my," he searched his mind for what he had said before about Padmé, "closest friend's family. I haven't been able to for ten, almost eleven, years."

Luke's mouth formed an 'o', nevertheless, he seemed eager to meet his maternal side of the family. _Who could blame him?_ Vader thought. Padmé's family was amazing people; they had welcome Anakin Skywalker into their home, and taken notice to his feelings for Padmé. When they returned one year later, Anakin said he was on Naboo for a mission and visiting old friends, they were equally as kind.

He was sure Sola had known about their relationship. _It's more than a friendship_, he remembered hearing her say. And it was.

Padmé…

Suddenly, he made up his mind. "No," he said assertively. "No. You can't see them. They'll know – they've been lied to about their daughter, Luke."

Luke nodded, taking Vader's seriousness in. He was right; he knew it. He didn't want to be the reason they were lied to about their daughter – he didn't want to cause that. "You're right, Lord Vader," he said calmly.

They stared at each other for a while. Vader thought he saw Luke notice something about the dark lord features – _familiar_? They were. They had to be. Blood tests proved it. Finally, ruining the moment, he said, "Shall we go?"

"Go where?"

"Off the ship," Vader said, like 'of course'.

"Oh," Luke said, getting up from his seat, following Vader out of the door.

* * *

He was immediately reminded of the cool, free air on the lush planet of Naboo as he stepped off the ship. He had once told Padmé that he thought of the palace when he was alone, afraid – he really had thought of her in flesh, but never admitted it. But it was true – the palace of Theed was grand, beautiful. The soft waterfalls echoed in the distant, and the sun shone on the marble pillars of the grand entrance.

"It's beautiful," came a voice from behind his cloak. "I've never seen anything like it."

"Yes, I know," Vader agreed, holding back so he could speak to the boy.

"The soft sound of the waterfalls could lull you to sleep," Luke said poetically.

Vader was instantly reminded of Padmé saying something along the lines of that, and cringed. He was so much like his mother, and he would never know her to know that fact. "You're mother used to say that all the time," he told Luke. "If you could see the lake country…" his voice trailed off the memories there, splashing in the water, lying out in the sun, not worrying about who would see them…

"Is that where my father and mother married?"

"Yes," he answered. "At sundown."

"Can – can we go?" He asked, seeing no harm in doing so.

Vader cringed again. He couldn't bear to go there – _no_. "No," he told his son rudely. "No. Not at all." It was probably a police site now… it was hard to imagine some place so perfect lined with yellow tape, blocked off. It served him right; he had killed Padmé, or the Padmé that he knew. They would never be able to enjoy it again.

Luke bit his lip. He had nothing to say for this. It was obviously an awkward subject, even thought Vader probably put his foot down about many things…

* * *

Walking through a graveyard was an eerie thing, and as it came, it was more than creepy. This graveyard was to fallen warriors or, in this case, senators/queens that had fallen during the Jedi Purge and most had giant statuettes for memorials.

Padmé had a memorial.

The statue was of her and presumable Luke's father. Padmé, stone version, sat on the bench, leaning on Anakin, smiling up at him. Anakin was smiling back, his hand around her waist. Luke decided that it was a beautiful memorial, and he was glad it was there. He wondered how the public felt about having her statuette with the man with her, for their relationship wasn't public until she appeared pregnant during the funeral procession.

He decided he would ask Vader later, when he wasn't – so… _emotional_.

Luke watched as Vader knelt in front of Padmé Amidala's grave, taking some gravel in his hands and letting it fall through his fingers. He repeated it, but this time, he lost it, and threw the gravel at the stone, and wiped away a fallen tear.

"It's not fair, Padmé," he thought he heard Vader murmur. "I'm sorry – I…"

Luke began to study the statuette. His mother looked so happy, so pleased that she was finally in his father's arms – it made Luke wince, it made him realize how in love they were. Her feet were bare, the shoes kicked off and lying at the end of the bench, forgotten. She had a necklace around her neck, it hung on her chest, obviously long, and handmade. He recognized it; the children on Tatooine made them from snippets of japor.

His father looked happy, as well – he had a good reason to be, too. It killed Luke to see them, obviously in love, and all that ruined… they were both dead, both deceased, never to see their son. Anakin Skywalker looked somewhat familiar. Luke had inherited his looks a bit, his childlike innocence as seen on his face. Anakin's stone hair hung just above the eyes, almost covering them, softly curling at the tips.

His gaze shifted to Vader, his escort, who had just finished speaking to his deceased mother. He got up, brushed the dirt off his knees, and flipped his hair out of his eyes…

His hair… his golden brown hair…

"_No_…"

Luke began to repeat that simple, negative word over and over, backing away from his escort slowly. His face dissolved; he never watched to lay eyes on this man again… he was an evil traitor, a liar…

Vader followed Luke, a little hitch in his step. "Luke?" He cooed, hoping to get a positive response from his boy. "Luke – I – "

"_I hate you_!!"

Luke was on his bottom now, his hand brushing the coarse dirt and turning them black. Tears were streaming, he hadn't realized, and he lifted his hand to wiped them, smearing the dirt on his face. "How could you – you left… you," his voice lowered now, and he hiccupped throughout speech, "_left_ her… us… _you_…!" He turn away, his voice lowering to a shout-whisper, "You _monster_, Darth Vader…"

Vader knelt next to Luke, slowly touching his arm, hoping for forgiveness –

"_Don't touch me_!"

"Luke, you're my _son_," Vader said slowly. He was surprised to see that Luke let him finished his sentence. "I – I'm sorry… I…"

"You _what_?" Luke demanded. "Selfishly became a Sith, and left her to die?" He already knew the story – it all fit… everything.

Before, Vader didn't want to show him Anakin's file, because it was himself. He didn't want to see Padmé's parents, for they'd see that he was alive and well, as they believed Anakin to be dead. He kept asking whether Luke lived with his mother, because he had hope that she had survived, that he death was staged. He had gotten blood taken for a parentage test, to see if he was the boy's father. He didn't want to go to the Lake Country, for it would bring back too many memories, memories that he couldn't share with his dearest.

It hit him with a bang – that…

He _loved_ her.

"You – and… my mother," Luke echoed, gulping back another set of tears. "You're my father…"

"Yes," he said simply.

"Then why don't you act like one!?" Luke screamed, his fist pounding the hard ground. "You're more of a traitor than I ever thought of you to be! You betrayed your own wife, _Anakin Skywalker_."

"Don't call me that," the dark lord said softly, catching Luke's hand from slapping himself in the face.

"It's your true name, _Anakin_," he said it again. "Anakin Skywalker, the man I'm named for. The man until now I believed was your _friend_. A man, until now, I believed that was _great_. You, _Darth Vader_, are anything but _great_."

Vader bit his lip. The child couldn't be more right…

"_Goodbye_, Vader," Luke said, getting up from the ground. He turned to leave the graveyard, "I'll see you back on the ship." He couldn't escape now; Vader would be too alert.

He began to walk, but didn't hear Vader come after him. Many moments later, after he'd gone a few yards or so, he heard someone yell,

"I'm a changed man, because of _you_, you know."

He just kept walking.

* * *


	7. revolution

Chapter 7

* * *

A/N: Please enjoy! This chapter was strikingly hard to write, so I'm sorry for the minor kinks and few errors – it's not the best.

* * *

Vader's hand out reached to Luke as he walked away, but the boy never turned around. He looked back on the stone image of Padmé, his deceased wife, and wondered what she'd think as their only son walked away, out of sight. 

Following him to the ship was a smart move, he decided. He wondered if Luke wanted this – for his father to follow him. He felt this odd sense of dependence, like he needed someone to love him suddenly.

And then there was the other sense of _in_dependence. He was _happy_, for some reason that Luke had walked away. Away from him, he decided – away from confrontation – away from telling the Emperor that Luke was there.

He'd have to tell the Emperor. He just had to – Luke was force sensitive. This might finally give him a chance to have an apprentice, a _real_ apprentice.

Then, his world stopped.

_No. I won't_, Anakin told himself. _He won't. Luke won't become a Sith, and I won't tell the Emperor. I'll do the right thing. _

_For once._

_Or..._

He found himself in the hallway on his ship sometime later. Following Luke was just a blur – he watched his son stop on the skift of the ship, wipe his tears, and look back, waiting for someone. He saw no one, though, for his father was hiding, and continued up into the ship.

He thought about knocking. Then he considered barging in, yelling. _No, I've got to change_, Anakin told himself. _Anakin. Anakin Skywalker…_

So he decided to knock. When there was no answer, he simply waited. He knew Luke was in there – the force proved it, his presence was unmistakable – he just didn't know how to handle it. He didn't know how to handle anything…

His mind wandered to Padmé. She would know what to do; she handled things so well during Senate meetings. She had always had that 'motherly' side to her, when Anakin had a problem, she would always be there. She always knew what to say, but he always pushed her away…

"Luke!" He unexpectedly screamed through the door. He was surprised by the way he handled this – he didn't expect to yell at the boy. He was just… waiting. What happened to that?

A boy's voice could be heard through the door, "Hello," he said. It was simple, but Anakin could tell he had been crying. Luke didn't thrash out on his father like he had when he heard of his parentage in the graveyard. He heard footsteps, coming to the door…

The door slid open, and Anakin invited himself in. He stood in front of Luke, his son, his only son, the only living piece of him, Padmé, left – and stared into his blue eyes.

"Darth Vader," Luke said wryly. "Your boldness scares me," his hand raised, almost to slap him – but his father stopped his hand in mid air, and left it there by his grasp.

He looked down, displeased with what Luke had just told him, and looked back up into his son's eyes. There was a pause, and in that moment Anakin's mind rambled to over twenty years ago…

"_Are you an angel?"_

_The comment obviously threw her off, "What?" She had heard what he had said – he knew it. She was flattered, per say. Well, he _hoped_ she was flattered._

"_An angel," the boy said matter-of-factly, "They live on the moons of Iego, I think."_

"_You're a silly little boy," she said, smiling. "How do you know so much?"_

"Don't call me that, Luke," he told his son. The similarities between young Anakin and Luke were indescribable – he looked exactly like him, almost a clone, in a sense. He'd said it before, but this time, he meant it. He gave one last glance at his boy, letting his arm go, and turned to leave.

* * *

There came a knock at the open door; he looked up to see who came to see him. Earlier in the day had left him puzzled, and he didn't know to react. He had sat in his quarters from hours now, trying to get his matters straight. 

Seeing Luke at the threshold had thrown him off again. "Luke," he greeted monotonous. He didn't chime, 'Hey, kid' or 'What's up, son?' like normal fathers should.

Like he had earlier in the day, Luke made himself comfortable. He sat in a nearby armchair, and sat directly across from Anakin.

They shared a silent moment, but then Anakin spoke, "Why are you here?" It was late at night – they had left Naboo hours ago. Maybe he had finally gotten over the shock, the feeling…

Luke seemed to ignore the question, and instead answer, "Are you really my father?"

This came as a shock. He gulped, took this in, "Yes," he said slowly, feelingly. "I am, Luke."

The boy quivered. "But… my father died," he said, shrinking into the chair, "After the Clone Wars. He left me – so did my mother – I can't… no…"

"The emperor lied to me, Luke," he said to his son as effectively as he could. He leaned on his knees, coming closer to Luke. "I believed you to be dead as well as your mother. Evidently he lied – I…" he had _words_ for the emperor right now, "…I'm sorry I left you, Luke. I'm sorry you believed me to be dead. I'm sorry I missed the first ten years of your life."

Luke had unshed tears in his eyes.

"I'm sorry, Luke."

Luke didn't let the tears go, though. He kept them in. "Anakin Skywalker?" He asked, not expecting an answer. He pointed to the man in front of him, "My father…" It wasn't a question anymore.

Luke believed it.

Anakin nodded. They were silent for another moment, and he wondered what would happen next. Without controlling it, Anakin formed a wry smile on his lips. It twisted upward, and then he breathed out, flashing Luke his white teeth. The funny thing was, Anakin hadn't smiled – _really_ smiled – since… well, ten years ago.

_"We're going to be happy, alright? This is a happy moment. The happiest moment of my life."_

"What was she like?" Luke asked suddenly. It seemed like a burning question – he kept it in for a while, since the graveyard.

"Who, your mother?"

Luke nodded. He knew what she was like – the file told her a lot of things, but he wanted to know _more_.

Anakin smiled again. "She was – very beautiful, Luke," he told his son, leaning in close. Luke did the same. It felt right, everything clicked into place then. "Every time I was with her… intoxicating."

Nothing felt weird.

"I miss her," he told his son, "So _much_, Luke. When I saw you – when I met you, I figured… I mean, I thought… that there might be hope, that maybe… maybe she was alive, living with you…"

It was obviously hard for Anakin to think about his dear Padmé like this – Luke could feel it, and see it in his eyes.

Then, he noticed another thing: his father's eyes were a bright shade a blue, a blue he had only seen in his own reflection. They hadn't changed since… two days before?

"I left her a lot, Luke," Anakin explained, "Because… I was Jedi." It was the first time he said the word 'Jedi' without a grudge, without a teeth clench, without resent.

_Anakin Skywalker was a great man_, Luke thought.

"I came back after a mission and I – "

"Are you going to tell the emperor?"

Luke's words threw Anakin off again. He wasn't sure what had inspired this question – he was obviously enjoying speaking about Padmé in such high interest. "What?" was all he could sputter.

"You heard me," came Luke's reply. "Will the emperor know of my presence? Does he already?"

Anakin clucked his tongue, and tried to decide what to say. He turned his head, engaging into a more serious tone, "Luke, you must realize that this is who I am now, and the emperor will want," he paused, not able to finished his sentence, for Luke had now fallen against his chair.

"It's not who you are, father!" It was the first time Luke had called him by the name 'father'.

_He has finally accepted his parentage. He's confirmed it._

"You're Anakin Skywalker! You're a fallen Jedi hero, a fallen Jedi knight!" He was standing now. "You had a wife, you were married – something that was against the code – its common knowledge! You were successful, and you threw it all away. You're Anakin Skywalker." His voice quivered again, it was brought down to a much more childish tone, sadder, "You said it yourself. You're _not_ Darth Vader anymore…"

He paused, thinking before speaking. He had told Luke this – he had… he couldn't lose another person…

_Padmé_…

He sighed. "You're right, Luke," Anakin told his son, bringing Luke to sit back down. "I'm Anakin Skywalker – fallen Jedi knight. But this is my duty, and I can't – "

"Don't! Please!"

Anakin bit his lip. "I have to – "

Luke interrupted him for what seemed like the fiftieth time that night, "I want to go home, father. _Home_. Tatooine." It was an idea that seemed illogical; someone actually wanted to be on that dissolute planet of desert. "I don't want to be here anymore," his voice broke, and he felt like a five year old, half his age.

He sighed again. "Okay, Luke," it killed him – but he… "I'll tell my pilot." Anakin got up from his chair, and pressed a few buttons on his datapad, and disappeared into another room.

Luke heard a faint "Good-night," from the next room. He sighed an equal sigh to the many of his father, and left the room, retiring to his own.

* * *


	8. conversation

Chapter 8

* * *

_A/N_: Eh, sort chapter. I promise I'll get better after this!

* * *

He strode into the cockpit a different man, giving different orders, for different reasons, he felt. He leaned over the pilot's shoulder, looking at the maps. After all, he was once his own pilot, a skilled one, at that.

"Redirect the ship to Tatooine," Anakin told the captain.

The man gave a puzzled glance over the shoulder at Anakin. _Weren't we just there? _Anakin could feel these words scanning over his mind.

"Yes, Lord Vader."

Anakin turned to leave, but was interrupted by a question,

"May I ask why?"

Anakin snickered, a rude comment coming when he saw Luke's head in his mind. He changed his words into something…_kinder_, yet still stern. "Actually," he told the captain. "No, you can't. It's personal business." He tapped the man on the shoulder, waiting for the captain to meet his eyes. When he turned his head, facing him, Anakin's eyes widened. "_Strictly_ personal, captain. The emperor must not know of this detour."

"Yes sir," the captain could sense how serious this was, and felt that he needed to keep this a secret. It wasn't everyday Lord Vader entrusted you with something like this.

Anakin left the cockpit, and hurried to Luke's quarters to report to his son what he had just done, hoping it would further prove his fatherly attitude. He knocked on the doorframe, for the door was already wide open.

"Hello," Luke greeted, not cheery at all.

Anakin smiled anyway, coming in and sitting on the foot of Luke's bed. Heirback, Luke's droid, was bringing Luke a few new, tan tunics. "What's wrong with the black ones I had made for you?" Anakin asked – a bit insulted by this event especially after he had just redirected their course back to his _precious_ Tatooine.

"Nothing," Luke answered wryly, "Except it's as if I was going to a _funeral_." The boy sneered at his father's own black attire.

_He has my wit_, Anakin said to himself with a smidge of pride. "Who says you aren't?"

Luke turned around, and dropped his things. "Am I?" He asked, eyes wide.

Anakin shook his head. "Ever since my mother passed – I… black tunic were essential to me. I don't know. I never got over the loss of her," he told him, shaking his head. "I've always been a bit different, I guess," Anakin bent his head, "If only I could've been faster…"

"Oh," Luke interrupted. That was all; he had nothing else to say. He felt a pang of regret, like it was something special to his father and he had thrown it in his face, scoffing it as _unworthy_. "If it makes you feel any better, I'll keep them." He said in monotone, almost like the line had been rehearsed hundreds of times.

"It's up to you."

There was a small silence and Luke felt it up to him to break the gathering tension.

"So why are you here?" Luke asked, cocking an eyebrow.

Anakin coughed. "I came to tell you that we're en route to Tatooine," he said. His news didn't seem so wonderful now.

Luke's eyes lit up immediately. He crawled to the edge of the bed and grasped his father's arm, "Really?" He was ready for this nightmare to be over.

Anakin frowned, a tight pang in his side as his only son was overjoyed at the thought of going home…leaving him. Momentarily, Anakin had a glimmer of hope that Luke would ask him to stay with him, be his long lost father and stay by his side forever.

Luke looked over to his father and also felt the same pang, an image of coming home from school to his father tinkering in the garage. Maybe….

"Father, I…"

"What?" Anakin asked, still upset at Luke's eagerness to leave him.

Luke sighed, things never seemed to get better for him, "Nothing…"

* * *

"Luke!" Anakin exclaimed. He was happy to see his son show up for dinner. He took his place next to his father, taking his napkin and politely placing it on his lap. _Beru and Owen have taught him well_, he thought. _But – _

Luke interrupted his thoughts, "What's for dinner?" The boy asked enthusiastically. He was obviously hungry.

"Aren't we hungry," Anakin said chuckled, wanting to overlook their previous conversation. He smirked, and watched Luke frown upon this. "I was only joking," he told his son, feeling the embarrassment emanating in small waves from the Mini Me.

"Aren't you?" Luke inquired.

Anakin nodded. "I'm always hungry, though," he confirmed. "I have a stomach like a bantha."

Luke stifled a laugh.

He had never heard him laugh before. It was a magnificent sound, he decided quickly. Anakin smiled. "To answer you question, Algerian cuscus," he answered. "With a side of Banzon." He wasn't too pleased with the food choices of the night, but he hoped – maybe Luke would be. "Not my favorite, actually."

"Oh?" Luke asked. "Somehow, I'm surprised."

"Why?"

"Oh, I don't know," he answered. "It is _your_ ship, after all."

Anakin cleared his throat. "Actually," he answered. "The Emperor orders everything that I consume to be healthy," Anakin grunted, "So he can keep me in the finest condition."

"Why?"

He didn't feel like telling his boy that he needed to be buff, lean to kill the remaining Jedi, or the remaining Senators that were traitors. _Not me. Vader is not me, _he kept repeating to himself. "I don't really know," he lied, and said with a smile, "It's important to him that I always look my best."

Luke looked thoughtful, "So you've never had any cookies in like what? A decade?"

It was Anakin's turn to laugh. In the short time he had known Luke, he had come to know that cookies were a must. "No, Luke, no cookies. The most I've had was some whole-wheat flour in my morning toast."

They both looked down at their plates, going into one of their ongoing silences. Anakin tapped his foot on the cold ground the sound ringing out into the equally cold walls, ran his fingers through his hair, and looked up to see Luke staring at him. How long had he been looking at him? Anakin cleared his throat.

The boy cleared his throat also, touching his neckline while still locking eyes with Anakin. "I don't know why I never noticed it before," he told Anakin, "We look so much alike."

Anakin muffled a nervous smile. "Well, you _are_ my son."

Luke cringed at the thought. Luckily, Anakin hardly noticed. "We do the same things, too," he thought about this for a moment, and realized he would never, _ever_ turn to the dark side, "I mean," he corrected, "I mean we walk the same way, we sit the same way. And we both have very large stomachs," he smiled at his wit.

"Really?" Anakin wasn't surprised to hear this, that his son had inquired his genes, after all, the blood test results had said this would happen, but acted like it anyway. He wanted to know about his life. "So tell me: if you had a choice between fruit or meat, which would you pick?" Anakin grinned and picked up a piece of dry bread, it was a trick question. He was testing Luke to see how a like they really were.

Luke looked puzzled. He frowned quizzically. "Hmm," he said after a long moment, "I'd have to say both."

"Both?" Anakin swallowed his bread quickly; it _was_ uncanny how alike they were.

Luke nodded anxiously. "Yup," he said matter-of-factly, "Meat is good and all, but it fills you up so much. And fruit is just – _fresh_. Good."

_Padmé liked fruit_, he thought back to that morning in the dining room, where he had shown off his Jedi powers. So long ago… "You do have a large stomach, son," Anakin said, forcing a watery smile. "But you're like your mother in so many ways, too. You've got this – thing about you. You never back down," he stated. Luke seemed intrigued to hear someone talking about him in such high manner, "Like your mother."

Luke nodded, although he would never really know. The thought alone sent a shudder through Anakin.

As almost completely unaware of the newly lighthearted conversation, a droid popped through the door to the kitchen, "Dinner," it said, "Is served."

Anakin smiled. "Shall we?"

* * *

_A/N_: Thanks everyone for the feedback again! It means so much to me! 


	9. goodbye

Chapter 9

* * *

He felt the paternal proud feeling go through him as he watched his son look excitingly out the cockpit window. He could feel Luke's anticipation of finally going home. He still felt sadness though to see him go, so he tried to picture things through Luke's eyes: horrendous 'parents', being kidnapped by a strange man, begin taken to strange places, finding out his own kidnapper was his father who he thought had been dead for the past ten years. Anakin sighed; he'd be happy to go home too.

Luke pulled away from the window, the window revealing small handprints from where he was watching the landing going on.

He got one of his thoughtful looks again and looked up at Anakin with sad eyes, "Father, are you better yet?"

At that moment Anakin would've done anything for that kid.

Luke hadn't fully brought him out of the dark yet, for he was still at his post of Darth Vader. But the part that was Anakin Skywalker had returned upon seeing his son's face in the morning, upon seeing the reflection of himself and his wife in Luke's eyes. He could never fully be Anakin Skywalker again if Luke wasn't with him, he would turn back to his old ways, seeing him depart made him sad. He hadn't felt that emotion in a long, long time.

Never had Anakin expected something so drastic like this to enter his life. He thought that by leaving the Jedi he would stop all that. But by only knowing Luke for a small amount of time, he could already tell that what he thought of life when he was Vader was very different from what he thought of life as Anakin.

Anakin tried to find something positive in Luke's going away. As a father, nevertheless, he could've had it so much worse. Luke could've died with Padmé, too, and he would've never gotten to know his son…and now the emperor would never have to know that Luke existed. Anakin smiled at that thought, Luke would never have to be in service to the emperor.

In some ways though, he thought that maybe if he hadn't run into Luke on that day on Tatooine, it might've served him better. After all, it was his fault he had missed the first decade of Luke's life. It would've served him better; it would've saved him the pain of seeing him go…but the pain of never knowing him…that seemed _much_ worse.

"Lord Vader," the pilot said. "We're coming up on Tatooine. Should we land, sir?"

He nodded. "Yes," he told the pilot, "Right by the second moisture farmer, captain."

The pilot nodded, moving the ship far enough away from the tiny farm so it wouldn't disturb Beru and Owen.

Luke had taken the seat next to the pilot, examining the many buttons and levers that the cockpit had. It was hard not to push, or pull, any of them – it was so _tempting_. Luke turned around briefly to find his father slumped against the wall, his hand pushed into his thick hair.

"Father?"

Anakin looked up upon hearing his son's voice. "Yes?" He answered.

Luke asked, completely clam, "You okay?" His compassion was unremarkable, it reminded Anakin so much of…

Anakin nodded, trying his best to hide his feelings, knowing Luke was force-sensitive. He lied, "Yeah, Luke. I'm good." Luke gave him a suspicious look. Anakin got up from the floor, and sat himself next to Luke on another chair and spun around to come eye level with his son. "Have you ever been in a starship before?" It stroke him as odd that he had never asked him this before…

Luke shook his head, his attention easily moved from the previous statement onto something more interesting. "Unless speeders count," he said. "But I guess this is probably the best I can ever get close to." He smiled, a memory flashing in his mind's eye.

Anakin shook his head. "Not necessarily," he told his boy. The astroscrews in Anakin's fake hand whirred as he used gestures to imitate the starships and speeders "What's left of some planet's monarchy has great ships."

"What's left?"

Anakin gulped. "The emperor is under the impression that planets should all go by a system of the empire, the empire only. The few that remain have specially been assigned," he told Luke, "for special reasons," he smiled.

Luke didn't say anything. He turned his chair around, back facing Anakin.

"Are you excited?"

"For what?" Came Luke's reply. He didn't turn around again.

Anakin paused. _What kind of answer is that? _"For going _home_, of course," he said. "You seemed a bit homesick, Luke."

"I was not!" As any ten year old would defend, he denied anything that made him seem weak.

Anakin chuckled. He thought he should change the subject, then. "I used to live here, you know," he told Luke.

"You could die here, you know," he mocked Anakin's tone, retorting what came to his mind, "People would kill you if they knew the creator of the empire was here."

He gulped. He didn't have anything to say. There was a pause, and almost if he could sense the tension, the pilot said, "Sir, we've landed."

Anakin nodded. "Time to get your things, Luke."

The boy nodded, going to retrieve the little belongings he had set aside in the corner of the cockpit. He waited at the door for Anakin, giving him a knowing nod, hoping that he'd follow.

Anakin got up from his seat, giving a stressed sigh as he did so.

* * *

Luke kicked at the sand in front of the doorway as he waited for his father to follow. Anakin was lagging behind, hoping, obviously, to avoid the traumatic experience of leaving his son that he had only known for a week…

Even at such a young age, Luke could tell that his father was miserable. He knew that when he found Luke, he had hoped of his mother to be with him, his precious Padmé was all that he really cared about. He was Darth Vader then, the ruthless Sith lord that had brought terror to thousands across the galaxy.

He was a changed man now, he had told him, and Luke couldn't deny that he didn't see a change in his father. It was something about the way he walked, the way he smiled upon seeing Luke – his snide remarks about his family, his way of life were gone, replaced by the fatherly poise of Anakin Skywalker.

But the paternal side of Anakin was something that Luke knew wasn't promising. He had told his own son, the only living pieces of him, that he would give his presence away for the emperor. Luke had known it then, as well as now – he cared about his master more than his own son.

Gods, he tried to convince himself that this wasn't true. He hoped that Anakin had seen past Palpatine, that Luke was more important now – maybe, just maybe…

But he knew not to put too much hope into this. It wasn't true – he had told Luke, also, that he had always been 'different'. A different man, somewhat of an outcast from the Jedi – it was probably the reason he turned to the dark side, Luke decided.

When he had turned to the dark side, Anakin had lost everything. His brotherly master, who was more of a father to him but a brother to Obi-Wan, his 'family' in the Jedi Order, his trusting guidance, and his wife, Padmé. There was tragedy there, but Luke knew nothing of it. He wasn't aware of the struggles Anakin had gone through before Luke's birth.

Luke hoped that maybe he would change his ways – maybe he wouldn't tell the emperor about his presence. Maybe he wouldn't go back to the dark side!

It was useless to think these thoughts, though. He knew it would never happen – his father now _lived_ with the dark… or did he? Suddenly, Luke was so confused – had he made the wrong decision by returned back to the farm?

After all, Anakin Skywalker was his father, his dad. He couldn't blame him for not knowing that he was alive, for he was hidden from him for the first decade of his life. If he hadn't turn to the dark side, they'd be a family, all three of them, per say – Anakin, Padmé, and Luke. It would just be _right_.

Anger streamed throughout his veins. If he hadn't become Vader, the most feared man in the universe, maybe – just maybe – his mother would be alive. And they'd be a family! Gods, how he _hated_ his father now!

But he couldn't fully hate him – no. His father was no longer Darth Vader. He could see it in his eyes; he was Anakin Skywalker again. He had blue eyes. Gone, was the yellow hint. Wasn't that a sign that he had turned back, become good?

He kicked said again, he wind blowing it back and landing on his shin. He grunted, loud enough for Anakin to hear. There was no sign of Beru or Owen, for they were probably inside the burrow, not able to hear their nephew outside.

"I think it's time," Luke told his father, who was now standing close to him. His eyes looked watery, blue there were no tears.

Anakin nodded. It was time. "Goodbye, Luke," he said as seriously as he could. He held in the pain he felt – he would let it out later, on the ship… when he was alone. He didn't say anything else; he just waited for Luke to make a move.

Was he supposed to hug him, tell him how good he had been to him in the past week? No, he decided – because that would all be a lie. He had captured him, thrust him on board, and kept him there. He had brought him to his mother's burial, where Luke had realized who Vader really was, his _true_ identity towards Luke. Then, after – they had made up, slightly. And Vader wasn't Vader anymore… he was _Anakin_.

Anakin watched as his son trotted down the steep stairwell down into the homestead. He couldn't help but feel the pang of leaving him, the insanity of it all. After all, he had been fair enough to bring him home – couldn't that be enough? Couldn't Luke finally see who he really was, deep down?

No.

He couldn't.

Luke didn't even look back. He just disappeared down into his home, leaving nothing behind, nothing said. _Goodbye, my son_, he thought. He nodded his head, and turned away, walking towards his ship.

_"It's good to have met you, Anakin..."_

What had he done wrong since Luke had discovered that he was his father? Everything, he guessed. He hadn't been the right man he should've been… he shouldn't of taken Luke away, he decided. He should have left him be, to go on to live his life. He was sure they'd meet again in later years – hopefully. Maybe Luke would join the band of Rebels, like he talked about.

Luke was a rebellious boy – he hated Darth Vader with a burning passion. No, it wasn't what he did after Luke had found out his parentage; it's what happened before that. It was the things he did while under the orders of Sidious.

Execute Order Sixty-Six… 

_"Anakin, no!"_

_"Master Skywalker, there are too many of them – what are we going to do?"_

The youngling's faces flashed in Anakin's mind. Why did he do that? What compelled him to think that killing innocent children would save his wife from death? Was Padmé really worth that, and in the end, she died anyway?

And it was because of you, Anakin Skywalker… 

"Wait!"

Anakin turned around, compelled to see the childish voice that was in the far off distance… Luke, little more than a small spec, getting bigger – running towards Anakin at full speed. "Wait, Father!" His voice got louder as he grew closer.

He stopped in front of Anakin, breathless. He could feel the adrenaline pumping through his son at this moment – he had run out of impulse, it was his decision. "Wait," his voice was smaller now. He had gotten Anakin's attention already; he just wanted to make sure.

"Luke?" Anakin asked. "Why are you back?" It wasn't like he didn't _want_ him back; he didn't _want_ him to come with him, he just – needed to know.

Luke swallowed hard. "I – um," he stuttered, obviously not prepared for this moment. "You're my father, right?"

Anakin nodded.

"And I'm your son, correct?"

Anakin nodded again.

Luke frowned. "Then aren't we supposed to be together? I mean, I'm only at my aunt and uncle's because I had no one," his father thought he saw a hint of desire in Luke's new, tiny smile, "Well, I have someone now, right?"

Anakin chuckled, surprised by this. He was shocked, actually, and that was an understatement. He didn't have words.

"My aunt and uncle don't know that I'm even home," he said. "I don't think they heard me come in. I mean, we didn't even really say anything outside. So – I was…"

Luke looked down, making shapes in the sand with his boot. "Will you – uh – not tell the emperor about me, if I stay?" He looked up, staring at Anakin up his big, blue eyes. They were piercing, promising…

And Anakin couldn't refuse him.

* * *

_A/N_: No, it's not over! Please review, I enjoy your feedback! 


	10. scares pt 1

Chapter 10

* * *

"Where to next, sire?" The pilot asked Anakin kindly. He had his hands on many levers and buttons, ready to punch in whatever his master said.

There was no reluctance. "Curoscant."

The pilot looked over his shoulder, and cast Anakin a disapproving stare. "The emperor's on Curoscant, Lord Vader," he turned back around, obviously making no move to return to the planet – he noted that Anakin didn't call the planet by it's new 'empire' name, either – Imperial City. "I don't think—"

"That's precisely why I want to go there," Anakin seemed content with his decision.

The pilot sighed. He pressed a few buttons, and the city planet appeared in holo. "If you wish, sire."

* * *

Luke felt the low _thump_ of the engines starting up, and the gravity skewed until they were free from the atmosphere. He looked out the vast window in his room, seeing his desert planet disappear…

Had he made the best choice? How could he be sure that his father wouldn't tell the emperor about him? It seemed like a work for fools now—why did he come up with a plan that included _trusting_ father?

Anakin seemed like a good man. He had taken him in his arms when they boarded the ship, hugged him—he made Luke feel like his son, finally. He had dropped Luke off into his quarters, telling the boy to "remain there until I return." Luke didn't know how long that would be, but he hoped it would be soon…

As almost a sign, his door slid open, disappearing into the side. "Hey, kid," Anakin said, sitting on the foot of Luke's bed. He was finally saying the fatherly saying—'hey kid' and 'what's up, son?' Even though he had said those, he wasn't sure if Luke was accepting them…

Luke had this look in his eyes, and the feeling in the force, that he didn't trust his father wholly.

"Everything alright?" Anakin asked. He smiled, obviously concerned, but trying to hide his feelings.

Luke paused, seemingly to think about his answer, and nodded slowly. He stifled a smile. "Yeah," he told his father, "I'm good."

"Good. I'm glad," he said happily. He got up from Luke's bed, and motioned for the boy to follow him.

Luke did as Anakin wanted, and he following at the hip. He looked up at his father—there was a sparkle in his eyes, something Luke had never seen before. "Hey, father, can I ask you something?" He asked.

Anakin was reluctant at first, slow to answer—he didn't know why this would entail, said 'question'. "Anything," he answered wryly.

The boy paused, trying to find the best way to put this. "Were you happy to see me? I mean, we you first met me?" He looked up again, seeing his father's eyes go shadowy.

Anakin swallowed hard. _What? _"Er—Luke, um," he didn't know what to say to this, "Of course I was happy to see you."

"No, I mean, were you happy to find me," he asked. "Or were you just _happy_ because you thought I was with mom?"

His precious Padmé—he couldn't deny that he wasn't hoping that she was alive, with him. That maybe, just maybe, Padmé had faked her death, and was living with Luke on the Outer Rim, far from the reaches of the empire. It also struck Anakin as odd that Luke had referred to Padmé as 'mom'. It wasn't an odd title, she fit it well, but it was as if the boy knew his mother. _Maybe he would've liked to_, Anakin thought.

"I guess it's an odd mixture of both," he answered, truthfully. "I can't deny that I wasn't hoping for your mother." He scratched his head, the side of his face—he was nervous all of a sudden. "But I'm happy I found you. I mean—even though your mother didn't… survive, you did."

Luke flashed Anakin a sly smile, and Anakin thought for a moment—that smile was somewhat familiar to him…

"You know what?" Luke said excitingly, taking Anakin out of his self-pity. "It's my birthday next week." He seemed pleased that he broadcasted him information—he cast Anakin a squinty-eyed smile, different from the last, and expected him to say something.

Anakin just forced a smile. He had known this was coming—it was also the day Padmé had died, and until recently, he thought the child perished within, as well. _Obviously not_, he told himself wryly, _because he has a birthday…_

"We'll just celebrate it, then," he said to his son, hoping that would make the pertinent excitement go away. "We'll be on Curoscant."

"Curoscant?" Luke said, detesting this idea. He hoped it didn't lead to—"Because of the emperor? But you said—"

"I know what I've said," Anakin snapped. "And this isn't about you—it's about _me_. I need to… _speak_ to the emperor." He didn't flinch, but he could feel Luke's utter fear after said those words. "You'll wait in my office—in the Senate."

"W—what are you doing… on Curoscant?" Luke stuttered. He didn't know what to say. Had his father not told him that they weren't going to tell the emperor about him?

Anakin didn't know how to put this to a ten-year old. "Ah, Luke—this is something I've been wanting to do since you arrived," he told his son, taking his shoulders in his hands and shaking his son, to show effort. "I need to do this." _I need to kill Palpatine._

"D—do… what?"

He swallowed hard, for what seemed like the fifth time that day. "The emperor is a burden to the galaxy," he told his son, hoping that he'd finally get the message, "Something… needs to be _done_."

Luke swallowed, the dry lump slowly moving down his throat. He couldn't believe it—he was _happy_ to be hearing these words. He smiled widely, hoping that this would work, that his father wouldn't die again. He couldn't afford to lose his father again…

"That's great, father," he said.

Anakin smiled, taking his hands off Luke's shoulders. "I'm glad you agree. I was a hard decision to make, under these circumstances."

Luke knew that 'circumstances' meant 'having Luke here'.

"After your mother died, I thought about it frequently. But I had no place to go, to run—and Palpatine was _far_ too strong then."

_As opposed to now—what makes now different?_

"But now—I'm different. I think, no, I know I can kill him now."

He seems to have studied this. He seems to have played this out— 

"Luke, if I—"

Luke had to stop him. "No, don't say it." Anakin nodded, accepting this. He couldn't hear another word…

"I won't," Anakin promised. "I'm—sorry I told you this. I should've." He resented himself for telling Luke this. After all, he was still a child, whether or not he acted like one. His son was an incredibly smart kid, he decided. _Must've inquired his intelligence from his mother_, he thought, laughing to himself. _But the _wit_—that's all me!_

"I'm glad you told me," Luke said. "But do I fit into any of this? At all?" He kind of hoped he did, but not exactly. He didn't want to be a part of overthrowing Palpatine—if things didn't end up like he wanted them to…

"Like I said before, you'll wait in my office in the Senate building."

"But—I want to…"

Anakin shook his head. "No, Luke. You can't. I don't want you to—at all. If you were to—I would never be able to forgive myself. I still can't. For the things I've done."

_What he's done?_

He pressed his palms to his forehead. "Luke, you're my son," he said. He was never wise, but he supposed the week he had with Luke had proved his parentage, fatherhood—fathers were wise, right? He wouldn't know… "I never had a father," before Luke could inquire what this meant, Anakin spoke again, "And I don't think I'm going to be a very good one. I kind of doubted it when your mother was pregnant," he smiled, remembering the times.

_He never had a father? Similar to me, I guess…_

"The closest thing I had to a father was Obi-Wan Kenobi," Anakin decided against grunting the teeth, for he was a traitor… _No, he isn't. And he was never…he just…_

"Ben Kenobi?"

Anakin blinked. "Ben?" He chuckled. "He's still alive?" He was under the impression that Kenobi was killed during the Purges—or died of old age. _He was graying a bit on the sides the last time we spoke._

Luke laughed. "Yeah, he's still alive," he told his father. _He had mixed feelings about this. _"He lives on Tatooine. He's kind of an old' hermit, now."

Anakin could believe this. "Old hermit, huh?" He found humor in talking about his old master—it was something of a change, for talking about Kenobi had always triggered somewhat of anger…

"Yeah," he said. "He used to watch over me, I think. He used to just… wait when Beru and I used to go to the markets."

Anakin was happy, and a bit jealous, that Obi-Wan had always been there for Luke, as well, for it was the same when he was Luke's age. Jealously struck him when he thought about seeing Luke as a baby, a young child—it hurt. He never got to experience that.

"Did he drop by often?"

"Not really," Luke said, shaking his head, frowning a bit. "I don't think Uncle Owen liked him 'snooping' around."

Anakin nodded. He understood that, somehow—he wouldn't like someone watching over his life, either. Come to think of it, he had almost an identical situation during the Clone Wars, when he would come home to Padmé. "Makes sense," he said.

Luke nodded.

"Do you know where he is now?"

"Last time I check, he's still there. Since you called him Obi-Wan, I bet he changed his name," he said, adding a second note, "For security reasons."

Of course, this meant 'because of Darth Vader'.

Anakin nodded again. "He never joined the Rebellion?" He knew little about the small form of Rebels that hated the empire; from what he heard, Padmé would've been a part of it, had she been alive. She signed the delegation—Anakin was there during this.

"Not that I know."

It was clear to Anakin that Obi-Wan was banished from the homestead, for Owen obviously didn't like him—as Luke said. If the boy didn't know much about Obi-Wan, he never really got to know the man, then. _He's probably mediating,_ he smiled, remembering the countless jokes he made about the Jedi habit.

* * *

_A/N_: As I previously stated, I'm moving on Wednesday, so I really don't know if I'll get in some extra time to update. If I don't I apologize, but I'll try to get the next update in as soon as possible! Thanks for the feedback, too -- it really means everything to me that people are enjoying this story! Keep it up! 


	11. scares pt 2

Chapter 10

* * *

Anakin placed his hands on Luke's shoulders as he guided his son forward, giving him a push in the direction he was supposed to be going. His son was obviously feeling grief, punishment for the fact that his father could potentially die over the course of the next few hours—it obviously frightened him, for Anakin could feel his son shivering.

They did not speak on their way to Vader's office, the oval room that was the end for the Senate corridor. Even though he was not a member of the Senate, a delegate, what the emperor would call 'traitors' like the rest of the empire, his old office was centered in the senate; Vader was on the leash of the emperor then, he was merely a servant standing next to the cruelest man on two feet…

Luke tried to hide the light behind his eyes as he envied the grand atmosphere of the Senate building, but also couldn't hide the feelings of… anguish he felt for his father. He had known him for such a short time, and in the beginning, hated him, but now—he had deep admiration for him.

When they reached Vader's office, unclearly marked and covered in shams of black and carpeting in gray, they stepped in.

Anakin had a look around—he hadn't been here in a while. Nothing seemed the change, except for a few dust bunnies underneath his desk.

Before he slid out behind the sliding door, Anakin slyly said, "Oh, and happy birthday."

Luke smiled. _He had remembered! _If wasn't odd for a father to remember a son's birthday, but to Luke, he had to make mark of it. He hadn't spoken to his father about his birthday in over a week, made no hints—it was just a miracle he had remembered.

Then, he thought of another thing. How could he be so stupid! Today, too, was the day that marked the death of Padmé Amidala—of the mother he never knew. Of course Anakin had remembered…

He ran his hand through his hair, and frowned. Sitting himself promptly on Vader's desk chair, he swiveled to the side, opening the bottom drawer, looking for something interesting to look at—

His hands found a holovid of a picture of a much younger Anakin, and a young Padmé Amidala. Anakin's arm was arm Padmé's shoulders, her neck, in a tight embrace; he pushed her towards the camera, which he was obviously holding, and kissed her on the cheek. The setting was unfamiliar, but obviously on Curoscant, for there were many speeders gliding along in the background. Her smile spread wide across the scene, and she was glowing with happiness.

Luke stroked the photograph, it still moving from it's first position is was taken to the last. He stuck it inside is cloak, hoping to keep it for later…

He found himself in the hallway sometime later, with no intention of disobeying his father—just curiosity, really. He watched the well-dressed humanoids stride past, for this was their quarter. As the famous faces passed, many looked down at the boy, wondering why the hell he was in such an 'important place' during this time. He ignored them, of course.

That was, until, he saw someone who looked about his age. Desperate for some contact with the human word of children, he approached her, seeing that she was wearing a button on her black dress that clearly read 'its My Birthday'.

He stepped in front of her, cutting her off from where she was going. She was shorter than he, but not by far—her curly hair was done up in a half-bun, and she was wearing a semi-formal black dress with a blue bow sachet on the side of the dress.

She huffed, obviously upset that Luke stepped in front of her way—"Hey," she whined, "I was walking, here—you…"

"I'm—er—I'm sorry to bother you," he said politely. He had seen her face before, but couldn't place it…

"—Well you are," she said flatly.

Luke frowned. _Okay, just a little stubborn here. _"It's just that it's my birthday too," he managed to get out before she cut him off again.

She debated this, and her frown diminished into a rather neutral look, and then she smiled faintly. "Then happy birthday too you," she said, obviously more kind this time. She curtsied rather clumsily, but didn't seem to care, "Princess Leia Organa," she stated her name rather proudly, not accustomed to meeting random people—

"Oh, so that's how I know you!" Luke exclaimed, thinking out loud. The girl looked at him funny. "I mean I'm Luke. Luke Skywalker." He smiled proudly, too, flashing her almost the same exact smile…

Leia blinked. "Skywalker?" She questioned. "Like Anakin Skywalker—the Jedi Knight?"

He nervously nodded slowly.

"Wow," she said, amazed. "How does it feel to follow in the footsteps of Anakin Skywalker?" Luke opened his mouth to answer, but the dazzled Leia didn't let him answer, "Whom do you live with now—since he died, and stuff? Your mother?"

Luke shook his head, unable to answer any of the questioned. "My mother died when I was born," it was the truth, sorry to say—"but I'm kind of wandering, now."

She cleared her throat, knowing that this kind of person—'a drifter' as her mother used to call them—was not someone royalty should be hanging around with. She wanted to ask why he was here then, why he was in the strict security offices of the Senate building, but couldn't bring herself to talk to this boy anymore. "I—uh—I have to go," she reported, looking around, seeing many stare Luke down. "Happy birthday, okay?"

And she was gone. Luke watched her disappear behind a pillar in the red-carpeted hallway, standing there and watching her leave. He couldn't help but feel something… something… _different_… about her…

He shrugged it off, reaching inside his cloak to pull out the holovid again, giving it another hard stare, wishing that maybe, just maybe…

* * *

The emperor was expecting Vader—he had summoned it when he felt the man land his ship on Curoscant. He glided down the hallway, skimming the walls, swiftly moving down to the even larger office when he sits, waiting for the dark lord.

Anakin approached the red guards, and was granted access easily. The doors slid open slower than before, it seemed—

_This is it…_

"Ah, Lord Vader," Palpatine seemed pleased to see him. His desk chair swerved around to face Anakin. "There has been news of those _damn_ Rebels hiding on Dantooine, Lord Vader. I'd like you too examine the grounds, and if anything is found—"

"I'll know what to _do_." A sith-like smirk crept up on Anakin's face.

Palpatine mirrored Anakin's evil smirk, flashing his yellow teeth. "They deserve what will become of them," he decided. He paused, getting up from his desk, meeting his apprentice halfway, "Ah, speaking of traitors—isn't this the very day that _wife_ of yours died eleven years ago?"

Anakin grimaced at Palpatine speaking of Padmé like that, almost as if she were a bug, reminding him that it was his fault, after all, that she had died, all those years ago. _Don't you _dare_ speak of Padmé like that_, he thought, blocking his thoughts from the force.

"Yes, she was a traitor," he kept speaking, "She was a member of the Delegation of Two-Thousand, don't you remember, Vader?" Anakin forced a slow nod, "She came to me—oh, yes, you were there—what a _scoundrel_. I will never see what you saw in her, Vader. She was nothing but a—"

"Don't say another word," Anakin spilled out before even thinking…

Anakin reached for his utility belt, finding his red bladed saber, igniting it. He willingly held it up to Palpatine's throat, releasing his anger…

_Luke, this of Luke, Anakin—it is the only way._

"Luke?" Palpatine spat, a fake smile forming on his face. "Ah, so you're still so carefree about your thoughts being able to be read, Vader." He laughed. "Enlighten me, my apprentice, who is this 'Luke'?"

He didn't realize it—his breath increased rapidly, he was now panting, gasping for air, hoping that this nightmare would be over soon. The blade from Palpatine's neck was met with another red burst of his that ignited for Palpatine's saber.

Both released themselves in a full battle, throwing the 'emperor' against the wall, knocking the statues from the post, crashing to the floor.

Anakin couldn't hear anything. He felt as if his ears were plugged with cotton, as if he was to faint, anytime soon.

"Luke," Palpatine gasped between lightsaber crosses, "Let me _guess_ who he is…"

Anakin held his lightsaber above his head, thrashing it into his old master's, knowing what would come next.

"Brother?"

He thrashed again, only to catch on a swift Palpatine's saber once again.

"Uncle?"

He repeated, over and over, unaware what he looked like crashing into an old man, one of the strongest in the galaxy; he certainly was the strongest when it came to power, when it came to thrust. But Anakin didn't care. Palpatine needed to die—he was a terrible man. Padmé had seen it many years ago, why couldn't he have?

_Have you ever considered we're on the wrong side?_

"I've got it," Palpatine decided, "_Son_??"

Anakin screamed, them grunted, as he force jumped to meet with Palpatine again, his anger bubbling. He feared for Luke suddenly—what if he didn't make through this alive? He had know other person to take care of him—no other _worthy_ person…

_What have I done?_

"Ah, so I am correct, my apprentice," Palpatine sneered, knowing that calling him that would make his anger surge—that he'd finally become a Sith again, against all odds, he could never return to the dark side. "So the child has survived after all. He would make an _excellent _apprentice, Lord Vader."

"_Never_!!"

Much to Anakin's surprise, Palpatine put down his mighty weapon, letting it drop down beside him, far away from his reach. "Strike me down, Vader. You've been nothing but weak ever since Padmé died."

"Don't you dare speak her name again, _Emperor_."

"Like I said," Palpatine repeated, making no move to fight with Anakin further more. "Strike me down. Your anger—I can _feel_ it."

"It gives you _focus_…

"Makes you _stronger_…

"_Shut up!!_" Anakin roared, putting his weapon above his head, standing in the correct stance for the position of killing the sith master. "Enjoy the last second of your pathetic life, '_Emperor Palpatine_'…"

"Just seeing you try to destroy me is amusing enough."

He moved it back, placing his foot forward in attempt to kill the man he had come to hate so much—

"You can't do it, can you, Vader—you're no better than the rest of them…"

There were tears forming in Anakin's eyes now, and he couldn't place why they were there. Why was he crying? Was it because if he kills Palpatine now, he won't know what to do after? Maybe because he feared for the future of Luke, his son, and the boy whose father killed the emperor? Was it such a good thing?

Was any of this a bad thing? How was the empire bad?

Sounds an awful lot like a dictatorship to me… 

Flashes of Padmé filled his head: flashes of early memories, of late—of just lying in bed with her one morning, procrastinating the future, and of just watching her sleep, watching the slow rise and fall of her chest…

_Ani, I'm pregnant…_

Oh, how happy he had been that day! He was going to be a father—it was the best feeling he had felt, ever, in his life. Padmé was going to be a mother, also, one of her dreams from a very long time ago. Why couldn't times be like that now? Why couldn't—

"You _wouldn't_…"

Anakin chuckled, and thrust his saber downwards, inadvertently driving the weapon into the man's chest...

* * *

_A/N_: Ah, so our story comes to a close end. I'm sorry this took me a long time; I only recently recieved internet in my new house (in case you didn't know, I just moved overseas), so I haven't had any time to update. Anyways, please review--I like your feedback! 


	12. cold

Chapter 11

* * *

_A/N_: There is some mild content in this chapter—please note the rating of this fic.

* * *

Palpatine's face whitened, the life from his very body disappearing. His crippled face was just a mere dead body now…

Gasping for air, Anakin disignited the lightsaber, watching the red bar of light disignited. "It was the sith way, my master," he retorted sarcastically, turning to go, never to see that man ever again.

Oh yes, the HoloNet will do an entire spread story on the funeral of the emperor, but Bail Organa will take over, arranging the empire back into a stable republic with democratic rules—it would work again, no emergency powers will be given again. And Anakin was happy.

He didn't remember walking out, throwing the red guards against the floor, making sure they were dead and would never have any memory of Anakin's entrance until sometime during their afterlife in one of the nine hells.

He didn't recall run throughout the hallways, pushing past people, wanting to get to Luke as fast as he could. He didn't seem to care that people were staring at him, looking upon the shadowed face of the infamous dark lord; he wanted to get to his son—Luke…

He pushed open the door to his office, finding Luke on the floor, looking at a hologram, which the boy quickly turned off, and stuffed it into his shirt. He didn't have time for questions.

When Anakin pulled his son up off the carpeted floor by his wrist, Luke's lips were moving but he couldn't hear a word the boy was protesting—

"Father," said calmly, shoving his father's grasp off his wrist, cutting free, "Why—why are we running?" Anakin had heard this bit—he didn't ignore it when Luke said it, and turned around to face him.

Luke's eyes were confused. "We—we have to get to Naboo," Anakin said, calming down a bit, moving Luke away from the crowd and into an empty office off the hallway. He pushed Luke into a chair. The boy fell lifelessly into the low seat, watching his fathers every move.

Anakin closed the door behind him and paced. He wanted to apologize to Luke for acting so distraught, but he couldn't find it in himself to apologize. Luke looked so innocent sitting there; he had no idea what was going to become of them once the allies of the empire found out that Vader had killed his own master.

"Why?"

He cringed. _Such an innocent statement—why—what do I tell him? He must already know, by now, _he thought. "Erm—the emperor is," he paused, breathing in, "dead."

"Is that why we're running away?"

Anakin nodded. "Away from those loyal to the emperor—people who support his dealings," he told his son honestly.

Luke stifled a laugh, "Not many of those."

He couldn't help but smile at his son's childish wit. "You'd be surprised," he said with a smile. He thought about those who had been loyal to him, but at the same time, feared for his doing, fear that he—

That's when his world went black…

* * *

_Padmé sat on the deck chair outside of her lake home on Varykino. It was winter, and the trees rustled with the chilly breeze that made the day old snow fall off the branches. Clouds gathered and blocked the magnificent view of the stars, but she didn't care. _

_She leaned back, her back catching the coldness of the seat, and closed her eyes. She sat in serenity for many, many minutes, not caring what was going on the in the core right now. _

"_Milady, you have a visitor," came a voice that couldn't be mistaken—Dormé. Her trusty handmaiden, her best friend, but right now all she wanted to do was sit and dream before she retired for sleep. _

_Padmé grunted. "Whoever it is, send him away." She wasn't in the mood for guests right now. And how the hell did someone find her out here?_

_Dormé clucked her tongue. "Okay, but I believe you're making a terrible mistake."_

_There was a hint of joking in her handmaiden's voice, she had sensed it, but shrugged it off. At this moment, she wanted to think about the last time she had seen Anakin. Was it two months ago? It seemed longer than that, though…_

_Her muses were interrupted but footsteps on the steps coming up to the patio. She shivered a little, but didn't budge from her seat. She turned her head to face the intruder, knowing that it was probably Captain Typho or just Dormé again._

"_Dormé was right, you _did_ make a terrible mistake," came a voice she knew all too well. _

"_Anakin!" She shrieked, hopping excitingly up from her seat and wrapping her arms around her husband in a tight embrace. She pressed her lips to his for a minute or even more, and the world was perfect, suddenly. "I—I'm…"_

_Anakin stopped her words by another romantic kiss, somewhat of a corny gesture, but he didn't care in that time. "I have only two days off," he told her once they broke apart. "I knew you'd be here."_

_Padmé's lips formed a sly smile. "Now, how did _you_ know that?"_

_"Your niece's lower school graduation," he replied, his smile gone, "Isn't that why you took time off?" His arms moved down to her small waist._

"_Ah, so you read my senate request," she said, tracing his handsome features. His hair had gotten long in the past two months, and his chin was stubbly, but rugged enough to still be considered gorgeous. "Did you convince Obi-Wan that we—you needed some… time off?"_

_He bit his lip playfully. He paused, and then shook his head. "No, not exactly…"_

_She then realized why they only had two days—"Anakin Skywalker," she said sternly, slapping him on the shoulder, "You did _not_ just run away again…!"_

_He frowned. "But I did, _Mother_," he retorted. "Master Obi-Wan will just think I went to meditate, like he usually does. He's awful oblivious about me and you, if you know what I mean."_

_She didn't make any move; she just studied him, making sure he wasn't lying. He probably was, but she honestly didn't care. She smiled, and her hands found his. She tugged his figure inside the house, pushing the door shut to keep the heat in after they had reached her room._

"_Padmé, I—"_

_She shushed him, closing the drapes…_

* * *

His eyes fluttered open, and Luke's blue eyes were staring right at him. That was when he realized he was lying on the soft plush carpeting, with Luke knelt down next to him. His eyebrows told him that Luke was worried.

"Father—?" Luke hit his cheek, hoping that he would wake up sometime soon. "_Father_!"

Anakin found his arms and pushed himself up. "Yeah, Luke," he said through a laugh, "I'm _alive_—and awake."

"Oh," Luke said, obviously embarrassed by the way he acted, now that he was awake. "What happened?"

He cleared his throat. "Um…I really _don't_ know. I just—blacked out." He felt like his ears were plugged with cotton, and he heard Luke from a distance, like he needed to listen really closely to be able to hear him. "It was like—"

Luke stared at him with wide eyes.

"Ah, never mind," he knew Luke was just about to say something, about to question what he was going to say, so he interfered, changing the subject drastically, "Say we go now?"

Luke got up on his feet before Anakin could. "No, _no_. I want to know what happened in the Chancellor's office. _I want to know_!"

_How can I refuse that?_ He mused, watching as his son threw an immature tantrum. He sighed. "I killed him," he said simply. He watched Luke flash him a look of—'well, _duh_'—and decided to elaborate. "The emperor—that damn man—spoke about the Rebel Alliance, and my anger…it rose…"

Luke's face was ghost white. He looked stricken. _Anger is a path to the dark side…_

"…But I contained it," he watched Luke's face regain its color. "My anger, I mean. And then I thought about you—about how… you _saved_ me, Luke. And—and—he felt my thoughts; I guess I forgot he usually did that…"

"He… knows about me?"

"_Knew_," Anakin was quick to correct Luke. "He kept guessing—deep down, he knew. Padmé's child had survived," his eyes widened with the thought of him knowing about Padmé's secret pregnancy, all those years ago, and somehow… somehow Palpatine had known… "And then he tried you use you—_against me_…

"I couldn't take it," he pressed it palms to his temples. "I surged out at him—screamed, too. He knew I was going to kill him—he let me, even." He paused, his blue eyes gazing upon his son's. Luke was frightened; he could feel it in the force. "I… I shouldn't have put the burden on you with this." _I've made it seem like it was Luke's fault…_

Luke childishly curled up against his father's chest, willingly. He didn't think then—he just wanted someone to hold him, like Aunt Beru used to when he had a nightmare. This all seemed like a nightmare, now, to Luke—then, he thought about how during the Clone Wars… during the Clone Wars how frightful everything must have been.

He had only heard about the wars in text, and discussed it in Imperial run classes, so—he hadn't really thought about the three-year period in reality. But it had really happened. Oh, how scared his mother probably was! How scared she could have been—thinking that her husband might not return, ever…

"I—I'm _sorry_, father," he whined.

Anakin shushed him, not really knowing what to do now that his child had taken such a loving interest in him; he then realized he had no experience as a father. He slowly began to wrap his arms around Luke in a tight embrace, patting his back slowly. "Don't be," he said simply.

Luke, seemingly calm now, looked up at his father, his identical blue eyes wide, "What happens now?" He asked, his hands trembling. "I mean, I know what we flee to Naboo—but what about the empire? Does it die, like its leader?"

His son posed a good question. "I don't know, son," he said. "I don't know…"

* * *

_A/N_: Ah, agnst. Please review! 


	13. wet

Chapter 12

* * *

She was about to turn to corner when she found a large, spacious office on the third floor of the Senate building. Leia didn't usually snoop around like this—okay, maybe she did, _occasionally_…

She poked her head into the empty office, searching around. "Hello?" She called, wondering if anybody had left the door open for any particular reason. "Anybody _home_?" She giggled, amused by her wit.

She shrugged happily, running in and closing the door behind her. She looked around again, as if anybody would be here the second time. She didn't feel anybody present in the room—it was a special gift that she hadn't told anybody about. She could feel people's presences, whether they were in a room or not.

She hopped onto the desk chair, seeing that the desk was left in disarray, like somebody had already gone through this before, for the bottom drawer was left half open.

Leia pulled it open, searching the contents for anything interesting to look at. She felt like a spy set on a secret mission all of a sudden. Scuffling under massive heaps and piles of papers and datapads, she found a data chip simple marked 'Padmé'.

The name 'Padmé' was her middle name, and this somehow intrigued her, making her want to read the data on the chip.

"Artoo!" She called, and the little droid whirled in, beeping something cheerful. "Come 'ere." She shoved the chip in Artoo's receiver, excited to see what was to come. She hit the droid's rusty top, making the hologram play out before her.

"_Anakin," the woman called, Padmé, presumably, "Don't—tell that droid of yours to put down that camera!" She was dressed in a simply nightgown; the color was unclear, for the entire hologram was taken blue. Her hair hung loose below her shoulders, the curls cascading down her back._

_The man, Anakin, wrapped his arms around his shoulders and said slyly, "No can do, _sweetheart_." He leaned in to kiss her, and the camera went black._

Leia seemed happy by the romance between the unknown couple. Could this man be Anakin Skywalker, the father of the boy she had met only hours before?

Could Padmé be Senator Padmé Amidala, the late but great senator who was a close friend of Leia's father, Bail Organa?

She hopped off her seat, and carefully slid the data chip out of Artoo's receiver. She would talk to her father about this later…

* * *

"It's all over the Holo Net!" Luke exclaimed, flipping through the channels that only seemed to be about the death of the emperor. Some channels, obviously with different opinions, called Palpatine 'a great leader'. Then some, the con-empire channels, rejoiced over the emperor's murder.

Anakin shook his head in disbelief. "Different view, different opinions," he said grimly, "It's what causes conflict in the universe."

"Well aren't we Mr. Optimism today?" Luke said, sarcastically, in attempt to lighten the mood.

He chuckled, amused by his son's sly joke. His mood dawned when he became serious, "I'm sorry, Luke—this whole trip, I—I don't know what has gotten into me," he said, looking down at his hands. Luke switched off the small HoloNet screen, listening intently to what his father had to say. "Going back to Naboo again…"

It would bring back memories. They were painful memories, no, but joyous. Ones that should be remembered but are always pushed away…

"I never met her," Luke said, "But I read about her a lot in school—she was my heroin, the person I'd choose always for all of my projects." This was new to Anakin. "Her death was somewhat of a public notation, yet they never publicized exactly how she died."

Luke buried his face in his hands for a moment, sighing, and then returned to the conversation. "I guess I never told you that," he said to his father, "I guess I didn't feel the need to. But she fascinated me, for some reason I couldn't explain at the time."

Nodding, Anakin studied his son's emotions. If possible, he missed his mother, even though he had never met her.

"I wanted to find out more information about her once," he said, interrupting his father's thoughts of the past. "But I heard that someone—someone tried to find out about her, and her death, and he or she was brutally murdered by someone…"

He or she was brutally murdered by someone… 

Anakin's heart skipped a beat, and he felt a pang in his lower stomach. He didn't want to tell his son that he was the one to 'brutally' murder the person, his lightsaber thrust through the woman's chest, instantly killing the innocent victim.

Right then, right as he was thinking about what happened eight years ago, Anakin felt something in the force—just for a _moment_…

He caught sight of the lush planet of Naboo below him, seeing it for the second time in two weeks. When he and Luke had ventured here to see the grave of Padmé, Luke had known—he didn't know how the boy had figured it out, but he had. _The force, maybe_, Anakin thought.

After all, Luke was probably of high count in midichorlians, since his father had the highest count of all the Jedi, even the fallen. It was a wonder Anakin hadn't sensed him before, especially since he had such a high count.

He was far away, though, from the Outer Rim mostly. He wouldn't dare to step foot on Tatooine until nine years after the death of his wife, and the turning to the dark side, which he was convinced was the best choice at the time—it clearly _wasn't_.

Arrival on Theed was a blur—many HoloNet reports followed him, wanting a good wanting a good story for the viewers at home to enjoy. Anakin Skywalker said nothing. Luke Skywalker clung to his father, being dragged along by his tight, sweaty grasp of his flesh hand. The boy didn't even dare to say 'Dad' or 'Father' while the reporters were following them—it would've been broadcasted…

Darth Vader, the infamous face that one year ago was all over the HoloNet, hadn't made an appearance on the network in over a year, and the crew could notice the change in the man as he walked swiftly past Theed Palace.

Losing sight of the reporters, Anakin hardly remembers renting a speeder and flying across the clear waters of Varykino—the lake country was far away from the capital city of Naboo, and the ride across the lake was silent.

He watched Luke as the ship docked by the stairs that he had led Padmé up so many years before. The boy ran up the stairs excitingly, before his father, as if a spark had lit below him, and he was set off—he was obviously excited to be away from the center of the action, away from the troubles of the fallen empire.

"Hey Luke, wait up!" Anakin called, following Luke swiftly up the stairs, where he waited at the top, his back facing Anakin. "I'm not as young as I once—"

Luke stood frozen, staring at the plain face of a seventeen-year-old girl, who had obviously stopped running, for her wet bathing suit was dripping on the tile below them. Shortly, another girl joined her, approximately twenty years old, or so—she stopped behind the younger one, wondering why the girl had stopped so abruptly. "What, you forget something again?" The older one teased.

The older girl shook her head, laughing at herself, and noticed the two men standing there, watching them react to one another—"Anakin?" She blinked, looking at the man standing there.

He couldn't deny that he knew whom these girls—no, _women_ now—were. "Ryoo?" He looked at the older one, "Pooja?" The younger girl.

Pooja's eyes averted to Luke, the small boy now standing shyly behind his father. The boy was almost a clone of Skywalker, only he wasn't—he had something else about him… "Is that—is that…" her hand rose from her sides. She pointed behind Anakin, "My—my aunt's…"

Anakin solemnly nodded.

Ryoo burst out in tears, burying her face in her younger sister's shoulder, wrapping her arms around her. "He's—Padmé's _son_, Pooja," she muttered, as if the girl couldn't figure it out. Almost as if she had a revelation, "And _your_ son, too—Anakin Skywalker—right?"

He nodded again. "Yes," he said. "I know you probably hate me—"

"Hate you? _Hate you_?" Ryoo sputtered laughing, "That doesn't even begin to _describe_ the feeling, _Darth Vader_!" She spat.

Luke suddenly appeared from behind his father. "No," he said quietly. "_No_—he's not Vader anymore."

Ryoo didn't meet Luke's eyes. "Oh, and what makes you think that?"

"Look into his eyes," he said, "They aren't yellow anymore."

Pooja pushed Ryoo off her shoulder. She knelt down to meet the boy eye to eye, she ignored Ryoo, knowing that this boy was right. She had always loved Anakin Skywalker, when he came to visit as Padmé's bodyguard and Jedi protector when she was in danger. She knew, though, towards the end of the clone wars, something was going on—Padmé pushed away all the handsome men her parent's invited over that Pooja had thought she had crushes on, excusing herself from the table to retire to her own room. "What's your name?" She asked the boy.

"Luke," he squeaked, his voice not coming out like it usually did. These people were related to his mother—it was something he had never known—he had never met anybody from his maternal side, "Skywalker. Luke Skywalker."

Pooja smiled, her short blonde curls half dry from before. "Pooja," he offered her hand, which the boy took ever so graciously, "Naberrie. Pooja Naberrie." She mocked how he had introduced himself, "So I guess we're cousins."

"Cousins?" Luke blinked. He had never had a cousin before! Padmé had a sister—or a brother, he wasn't sure. "I wasn't aware—"

"I wasn't aware that you were alive," Pooja remarked slyly, "But you are—so now we're cousins." She got up from her crouched position, and pointed to the crystal clear lake that sparkled with the sunlight. "Come and swim with us?"

Luke looked from Pooja to Anakin, casting him a questioning glance. Anakin nodded quickly, silently telling him that he should go have fun for once—"Okay," Luke answered sheepishly, following the wet Pooja down to the sandy beach.

Ryoo awkwardly followed the two, wondering if she had acted rather rashly.

Knowing that Sola and her husband were probably down at the beach, he guided himself inside to the country home, where he had shared so many good memories. He glanced behind him, catching sight of the balcony where Padmé and Anakin were married many years ago. It was also where they shared their first kiss—the beginning of many to come.

Bringing himself into the kitchen, he pulled a chair out and sat down in it, slumping down, wondering if he made the wrong choice to bring Luke here. He hadn't told anybody he was coming, which was a mistake, obviously, for Padmé's family was vacationing here. He'd have to face the rambunctious Sola, who Anakin had grown to love, but still felt slightly interrogated by ever since he first met her.

He traced the wood carvings on the table with his fingers, remembering the last time they shared in this place, wondering if Padmé (and Anakin's) room was the same way they had left it, the bed unmade and the curtains open, swaying with the breeze of the open window. Probably not, he presumed—

They would stay here. It was where she wanted Luke to be raised, their baby, their child, all those years ago, in the room by the garden, he remembered her saying—they would stay here. He would enroll Luke in a local school, a quiet country school, and they would start a new life here.

He got up, going over to the holotransmitter in the kitchen. He remembered Luke saying something about being born on Polis Massa, a foreign planet that was hardly one—more of an asteroid. He needed Luke's records, his birth certificate, everything, so he could enroll his son in school.

He pressed in the coordinates of the Medical Center on Polis Massa, and kind-looking native Polis Massian came in.

"My name is Anakin Skywalker," he said formally, "I would like the birth records of my son, Luke, so I can put him in school."

The alien made a content noise, and asked, "How old is your son?"

"Eleven," he answered quickly, "His life day was yesterday?"

The alien ran her fingers over several files, muttering 'Skywalker, Skywalker' as she did so, "Ah ha! Skywalker," she said, finding something. Much to Anakin's surprise, she pulled out two folders, instead of one—

"I have two here," she said, "Which one would you like—the boy, or the girl's?"

* * *


	14. leaving

Chapter 13

* * *

"The boy's, or the girls?"

This echoed in Anakin's head for the duration of the next few moments. The boy? The _girl_? Since when was their _both_? And on the same day—unless… _twins_? "Twins?" He cooed, his owns words not registering in his mind.

"Y—yes, sir," the woman spoke again, suddenly not sure if she should have told this strange man the children's birth records. She searched through her documents again. "The mother—Padmé Skywalker, was her name," she started, flipping through the many papers, "she died shortly after her children were born."

Anakin hung his head, very aware of this information, "Yes, I know."

The woman nodded, obviously dire about the subject of death. "I'll ask again," she said, running her fingers through her green hair, "Would you like the boy, or the girl's, birth records?" She seemed to have an idea, "Or both?"

A spark was in his eyes at this moment—even if the Polis Massian hospital crew was incorrect about the certain information consuming Anakin's son, and possible daughter, he would inspect the documents, making sure that they were correct…

If Padmé indeed _did_ have twins… it was even more heartbreaking than before. Was she alive, Luke's other twin? Where was she now? Did Luke fail to mention her, the sister he lived with—or did he just not bother to ask? Aren't twins supposed to run in the family?

"Yes," he answered, coming back from his lost thoughts, "Yes. Send them to the Varykino Lake Cottage on Naboo _immediately_. I'll send the faxing numbers through—"

Moments later, the blue screen before him that once housed the staff member of the med center disappeared, and Anakin was left alone for his thoughts. He pressed his hands to his temples, sitting back into the chair, sighing deeply.

He had been wrong about the whole thing—the entire time…

_There was another_.

"Anakin?"

It was a familiar voice. He lifted his head slightly, only to get Padmé's older sister staring him plainly in the face. He blinked, sitting up, taking his hands away from his face. He felt a need to impress Sola, at this time, for Padmé had usually described her as a 'demanding sister'. He hadn't seen her since—_years_. She looked older, so did he, but the years had been good to her. He smiled faintly. "Sola," it wasn't a question. "It's—good to see you."

"And it's _odd_ to see you," Sola sputtered, "I thought you died with—I thought you died all those years ago. But, your son…"

Anakin smiled at the thought of someone else calling Luke his 'son'.

"…He's exactly like… well, _you_," she said, pointing aggravatingly at Anakin, "But he has my sister's spirit." There was a light in her eyes that admitted to Anakin that she was happy that all these years, the three years of teasing Padmé about her Jedi Protector, that she had been right, finally—"I was right, you know."

He pretended that he had no idea what she was talking about—"'Bout what?"

"Padmé," it was the first time she spoke her name, "And you. I could see it in my sister's eyes when she watched the HoloNet every night just to make sure you were okay, you were safe."

He looked away, down at his hands, at the memory of leaving her for all those months.

"Were you—um—married?"

Anakin nodded grimly. He heard Sola gasp slightly, but obviously not to much surprise. She knew it was coming, he could sense it.

"When?"

Looking up, he stared past Sola, peering through the window to the shining lake. "After the start of the Clone Wars," he said, monotonous, "Here."

Sola nodded, even though this was news to her. Everything seemed to be news to her. Attempting to get to know Anakin more, she slid the chair out and curved her body into the chair, looking at Anakin's big, blue eyes. "There is something else, isn't there?" She asked, sensing his discrete.

He didn't answer; he said, "I need you to look after Luke for a few days," he got up from the table, pushing in the chair. He sensed where this conversation was going—"I'm not leaving, no. But there are… _things_ I need to attend to."

Sola didn't speak, just nodded, watching him go.

* * *

"_Cannon ball_!!"

Luke folded his knees up to his chest, shivering. Naboo was cold, when they were by the water. Maybe it was just because he was from Tatooine, presumably. He watched Ryoo and Pooja splash childishly around in the clear lake, jumping in from the dock. They dunked each other, pushed each other under, and swam circles around—it looked like _fun_.

He whined arrogantly, seeing Pooja turn towards Luke from the water, pushing her wet hair off her forehead. "Aw, c'mon Luke!" She squealed, "There's nothing to be afraid of!"

In a sense he knew that she was right. There was _nothing_ to be afraid of, and if there were, you'd be able to _see_ it because the water was so clear.

Pooja waded over to Luke, pulling him up. He had stripped down to his pants that went under his tunic, the comfortable pants they were. His skinny, bare chest was showing and he crossed his arms over it, slouching down, and obviously affection for coldness.

"Wait—can you," she just had a thought, "_swim_?"

Luke bit his lip.

Her reaction was delayed, and Luke could tell she was thrown back, flabbergasted. But she quickly bounced back, grabbing Luke's arm, tugging him into the shallow side where the tide came up and down…

"See look, it's easy."

"It's c-c-cold," he said through his chattering teeth. She made a song with her mouth that sounded like, _psssh_! She just tugged him further and further, deeper and deeper… "This is so _not_ 'easy'!"

She made the sound again. Before Luke noticed, Ryoo came up behind him, pushing him into the deeper area. Suddenly, he couldn't feel the sliming sand beneath his feet anymore. He fought to stay above.

Ryoo laughed, watching Luke flail in the water. "Luke, kick your legs," she was saying.

Luke tried it.

It worked.

"See, that wasn't so hard, was it?"

Panting, Luke forced an aggravated smile. "No, not at _all_," he said through clenched teeth.

Pooja studied his features for a moment. "You look like Knight—I mean, Anakin," she said, making up her mind, but tripping over what she called Luke's father, "But you're small just like my aunt." She turned her back on Luke, and he was confused for a moment until she said, "Bantha back ride?"

He smiled, wondering why he ever chose to grow up. He paddled, treading water. _Why not?_ "Okay," he said softly.

* * *

_A/N_: I apologize for the shortness of the chapter. The next one will be better, I promise! 


	15. princess

Chapter 14

* * *

She was born Leia Skywalker, but had her named changed to Leia Organa. _No doubt_, he thought, _the princess I had grudgingly met over ten years ago, when she was a baby._ He cringed on that thought—how could he not feel his own child through the force?

It was such a long time ago he hardly remembered his last trip to the snowy mountain planet.

But now, he was there. He shivered in his cloak and tugged it around him as the chilly atmosphere finally hit him. The ship was docked in a deserted cave not far from the Aldera Palace, hidden behind a tumbled pile of rocks.

Finding himself in what seemed like a garden, the snow beneath his boots crunched as he trudged forth, knowing that this garden during the summer would be bursting with beautiful shrubbery and floral decoration instead of the white that blanketed the hedges.

"Winter, _hey_! Wait up, you _freak_!"

Anakin's head whirled around, wishing he could see the source of the voice. He knew, though, that this voice was Leia's, his child—he felt it through the force. Hearing her footsteps crunch within meters away, he ducked down, hoping not to be seen.

The bushes separated the two for the time being, until Anakin got up enough courage to go say—well, he didn't know _what_ would come out of his mouth but it would be _something_.

"Okay, I give up! You can come out now!"

His _daughter_.

When Padmé had told him of her pregnancy, Anakin had generally thought of the baby to be a girl. All the time, over the course of the few weeks that she was alive before… that, they rarely spoke about the baby's gender. When they did, once, Padmé spoke about their baby being a boy. Motherly intuition, she said. He laughed.

Leia's hair was covered up with a pink hat, her straggly curls covered just below the shoulders. Her brown eyes didn't seem to notice him, instead peer over him. He made himself visible, coming out from the crouching position he was stationed in.

The feeling the icy blasts beneath him, he ran away, hoping Leia wouldn't hear him or note his presence. Sitting himself on a bench by a doorway, he heard the distant giggles of two girls, knowing that one who made that sound was _his_. That the voice that was calling out to another girl was coming from his and Padmé's child, Luke's _sister_….

What would Luke say of all this? How would be react? He didn't even say goodbye—he regretted that. He frowned, thinking about how he basically left Luke with people he hardly knew…

"Do you have a registered badge, sir?"

Anakin was suddenly aware of the fact that there was a strange, strong looking man standing in front of him.

"You're on Royal Alderaanian grounds—you need identification," the man said again, as if Anakin didn't understand.

He grinned. Reaching inside his pocket, he drew out Darth Vader's badge from Curoscant. "Lord Vader," he said, making his voice deep and menacing, "I'm here to meet with Bail Organa…?" Was it a question?

The man stepped back, suddenly seeing how the man resembled, and was, Darth Vader—he was suddenly frightened. He didn't need to look at the badge. He turned, leading Anakin down a path that obviously led to a door to the castle. "Come this way, milord," he said, stuttering, not knowing how to react.

"I'd be _very_ grateful if you took me directly to Organa," he said convincingly.

"Y—yes, milord."

The man led Anakin through a series of blast doors, obviously for security reasons. Last he was here, he was led from a hangar bay, privately guarded by man officers. Dashing up many flights of stairs, he observed the many portraits on the wall, wondering which one was his daughter.

Something caught his eye finally—a golden droid, wobbling through a hallway. He was following a certain astromech droid by the name of Artoo-Detoo, if he could remember correctly. He smiled at his sarcasm—how could he forget those two? Threepio was muttering something to Artoo, making the small droid throw an electronic raspberry at Threepio.

_Some things never change_, he thought.

Not taking his eyes off the droids, who didn't seem to notice them, he found himself at an office door, clearly leading into a magnificent library lined with oak wood. Seated at his large corner desk was Bail Organa. He was going through many documents, it seemed, and getting aggravated to the least.

"Master Organa?" The man got Bail's attention, making him lift his head. Bail didn't see Anakin, who was lingering behind quite a bit. "You have a visitor…" The man motioned for Anakin to enter in, who did.

He made himself clear, watching the puzzled and frightened expression creep onto Bail's face. He stuffed whatever he was working on into a nearby drawer carelessly, getting up from his chair. "Lord Vader," he greeted monotonous, knowing that Sith don't show emotion. "What bring you to Alderaan?"

Anakin cleared his throat, hoping that this didn't sound to cruel, "My daughter."

Bail froze in his steps. He seemed surprised, but not entirely. "I received word that they boy has gone missing," he said, looking down at his feet, "I suspect he's with you?" He met Anakin's eyes again."

"He's with his father."

"You?" Bail motioned to Anakin.

He nodded slowly. "I want my daughter," he said sternly, not meeting Bail's eyes, looking behind him at the clutters of books. "She's my flesh and blood, you know, Organa—you cannot deny me of my own child."

Bail opened his mouth to speak, but was interrupted by a child's voice behind both of them, standing in the doorway, "Hi, Dad," she said, coming up to Bail, engulfing him in a big hug, completely oblivious of Anakin standing right there. He held on to her for a little too long, like he knew that this might be the last hug—

Serge of jealous rang throughout his body. Who was this man—for eleven years—to raise his child, and show signs of affection right in front of his own eyes?

Leia turned to face Anakin. "I'm sorry to be a bother—I—I'll go now," came the angelic voice…

"Wait, Leia," Bail said, catching her before she backed away, and disappeared, "Tell Threepio to some of your stuff together."

Leia glanced at Anakin, suddenly recognizing who this man once was, "Lord Vader?"

He paused, wondering what to say. She blinked, hoping that he'd say something—"No," he shook his head. "No."

Bail was suddenly speechless. Of course this was Vader! He looked exactly like him, except a little less menacing. He had disappeared from the empire a few months back—had he been redeemed, like Padmé had always believed? "What?" He sputtered, "Darth Vader is who you are—"

"I said no, Organa," he said, "Are you going to deny me of my true name, as well?" He glanced at Leia, seeing the child's scared expression dawning over her face. She was confused, Anakin could feel—she quivered, and suddenly wanted to escape from her father's grasp.

"Leia, go pack your things," Bail said sternly to Leia, letting her go. She gladly went.

"But father—"

"_Go_."

She nodded, obeying his words. Anakin watched her leave, knowing that she could feel his eyes on her. As soon as she was gone from the picture, and Anakin couldn't feel her in the force anymore, he turned towards Organa again, "You're letting me take her?"

"She's your child, Vader."

"I told you that isn't my name," he said, looking down at the plush carpeting.

"You expect me to call you 'Anakin Skywalker' after what you have done? After you killed your _wife_, leaving us the only choice to split up your children to hide them from _you_?" He spat, rising from his seat. He grasped the edged of his desk in anger, "You do not deserve the name of Anakin Skywalker—he was a hero, a child's hero, none the less. Not a _murderer_."

'_Murderer_'—the words echoed in his head ever so many times. He couldn't get around the fact that he killed children—innocent children—many years before. He couldn't accept that he had killed a member of Padmé's family just because she wanted information about her mysterious death. He couldn't get around the fact that he knew his daughter wouldn't accept him. He knew that Princess Leia Organa had been raised as an Organa, not a Skywalker—she wouldn't openly take Anakin as her father.

And that scared him.

He stood there, speechless, staring down at his feet.

At some time later, Bail spoke up, finally—"Her room is down the hall, to the left."

Anakin's eyes brightened at the thought that Bail had finally accepted him. Bail thought he saw a trace of a faint smile, but he was gone too quickly for it to sink in.

He knocked twice on the door, hoping that Leia would be there. He heard faint footsteps and the door slowly slid open. She caught sight of his face, and he stood there for a moment until she spoke, "Lord Vader," she greeted properly.

"I said no before," he said with a smile.

"But you are—I swear—I've seen you ever so many times in the Senate halls when I was younger, and I—" she stopped speaking, realizing that the man in front of her was wearing a smile. "What's so funny?"

"You talk quite a lot," he said, his smile stiffening. "You're like your mother, in that way."

She stared at him for a moment, wondering how in the galaxy he knew her mother—"You knew my mother?"

"Not Breha, no," he said, and suddenly his smile was gone. "You're—birth mother," he couldn't bring himself to say those words, for some reason. Having Luke and Leia together, and Padmé too, would be his dream. It would've been Padmé's dream, as well, but…

"How do you…"

"My name is Anakin," he said, cutting her off. "How long have you lived on Alderaan?"

"For almost ever. I wasn't born here, though," she explained, "My mother died shortly after I was born, and I was brought here, where I was adopted." She didn't bother to give away her name; she didn't feel comfortable around this stranger. But, nonetheless—she felt something very familiar about him.

"So you're not of royal blood?" _Playing cool_, he thought.

She shook her head slowly. "No," it was obviously a grim subject, an arguable subject, for she dismissed it easily. She had another thought, for she stopped dead in her tracks, "Your last name would happen to be… _Skywalker_… would it?"

He met her eyes and smiled.

She gasped. "I have—I found—I… a hologram…" she said, "Of you and… Padmé, I believe was what you were calling her."

He tilted his head, "Where'd you get this… _hologram_?"

"I—um—_found_ it," she said. She was dire suddenly. She didn't want to reveal to this strange man that she had stolen it from Darth Vader.

He cleared his throat, "Um, Leia—what do you know about your birth mother?"

She had a revelation and suddenly couldn't believe she was spilling her secrets to a man by the name of Anakin Skywalker. A man that seemingly _disappeared_ many years ago. A man that had a son; she had met him. A man that had pretty much invited himself into her own bedroom—did he…? "Why are you here, Anakin Skywalker?"

* * *


	16. innocence

Chapter 15

* * *

He dried himself on a towel, still smiling. Feeling this kind of sand beneath him was an experience he hardly thought he would ever get to live through. Tatooine was a planet was coarse sand that got everywhere. _Not here_, he decided. _Everything here was soft and smooth._

He started to head up the stairs, greeted by his aunt, who he had just recently met. She was kind, he thought, and she had soft features that resembled Padmé, his mother, but not entirely. In the few holograms and readings he had done on Senator Amidala, he knew she was a beautiful woman. In the photos, she was young, and looked young, even when she had gotten into her late twenties. Sola, on the other hand, was at least eight years Padmé's standard, for she was much older than Padmé would have been.

"Luke," she said, flustered upon seeing him run up the stairs. She looked him up and down, and a small puddle of water from his wet body began to collect in a puddle underneath him, "Where are you—going?"

"Just to talk to my father," he said with a smile. He sensed something, something that Sola wasn't telling her, "Is there something wrong with that?"

She sighed. Sola lifted her hands and placed them close to Luke's chest, stopping him from going somewhere. "Luke—uh—your father's not here," she said.

Luke stayed silent. His eyes grew scared, wondering if he had—

"He didn't leave you, Luke, don't think that," she said, as if she could read his mind. "He had to leave, unexpectedly."

"Why?"

She sighed again, this time lowering her hands to the side of her body. "What your father did for the empire was great, Luke," she started, "He told me he had things to 'attend to'."

"Were those his exact words?"

Sola nodded. "Yes," she spoke slowly, "He told me that he wasn't leaving you, though. I don't think he would do that, either."

Luke knew, deep down, that Anakin Skywalker wouldn't leave him. He wouldn't leave him here, with family. Not again, Luke knew; Anakin was already upset about Ben Kenobi's choice to send him to Tatooine. _He'd be back_.

Sola suddenly changed the subject. She knew what they were talking about would send Luke into a mood; he was so much like his father. "You know your parents were married here," she said, telling Luke her newfound information, "Right on that balcony."

He nodded. "Yes, my father told me quite some time ago," he told her, looking off into the horizon. He wrapped the towel around him even more, shivering a bit. "Did you know?"

She shook her head, slightly laughing. "Not of Padmé's marriage, no. But I was the first she came to when she thought she was pregnant."

Luke felt uncomfortable with the subject suddenly, again. It seemed like him and Sola couldn't _speak _without getting uncomfortable. He shivered again, noticing that the towel wasn't quite big enough to make him warm.

"Here, Luke," Sola leaned over to the balcony and took a hanging towel from it. She placed it around Luke's shoulders, adding more weight on his body. The dry towel made him warmer, and he smiled upon the affection his aunt was giving him. "There's a fireplace inside." She pointed to the French doors that opened to the balcony.

He smiled again, nodding. He padded into the home, the first time he had gotten to go inside. There, the soft crackling of the fire was all that could be heard, and the dim glow from it was all that was light. On the walls were many holograms of many people, presumably family members. He noticed on small one of Anakin, with Padmé, but no obvious forms of affection. Just smiling—standing next to each other, like civilized friends.

His eyes scanned the man holograms; he found a few of a young Ryoo and a very happy Pooja. Nothing else caught him eye. Taking a seat on the couch, his eyes sank into the carpet, staring off into the netherworld of space.

He wondered where his father was. He had just started to call his father 'Dad', which, honestly was a big step. He hadn't ever considered Vader as a 'father' much more a 'dad' than a man whole ruled the galaxy under a firm iron fist. At a point, he hated Darth Vader. He hated the idea of an 'empire'. He hated the fact that he didn't live in the mutual times of the republic. The irony of the entire situation, though, was that Vader was actually the one to bring down the empire—all together.

Oddly, an image of Princess Organa from Alderaan appeared in his head. He didn't know why, suddenly—he supposed it was because there was something about her, something about the way she walked, the way she talked, and maybe even the way she looked that gave Luke a sense of familiarity.

A crush?

He smiled upon the idea of meeting the princess once more. Would he flub his words, like he did when he met her? Last time he basically _ran_ into the poor girl, for force's sake. She acted cool, she was sly and witty, and Luke was hardly. His smile soon turned to a frown.

Sometime later, Luke wasn't sure, Sola called him into the kitchen. Luke's hair was suddenly dry, for he had probably been sitting near the fire for quite some time, but he hadn't bothered to glance at the chrono.

The woman smiled, seeing Luke stroll into the kitchen area. He was greeted with newfound aromas that he couldn't place, for he had never smelt such things. He smiled again, excited to finally eat. He hadn't realized he was hungry until he felt his stomach growl.

"Smell's great," he stated, grinning.

She seemed pleased. She handed Luke a plate of grilled vegetables, "Set them on the table for me, Luke," she commanded. He obeyed, watching Sola be 'crafty in the kitchen', as Aunt Beru would have said.

Reminding himself of Aunt Beru, he wondered what she was doing now. Where she was—ah, never mind—she was on Tatooine, in the same farmland she had been on for umpteen years. _Thing don't change on that planet_, Luke thought.

Aunt Beru was, basically, Luke's mother. He couldn't let go of her, and he didn't know how to say goodbye. To begin with, Luke was never hers to parent, so he held a strange amount of respect for the woman. She—they, meaning Uncle Owen—took him into their home when he was a baby, having no idea what they were in for. He was hidden, he knew at some point of his life, away from somebody. Away from something that he knew he was destined for…

Growing up in the Homestead was something other than unbelievable. Luke learned how to harvest moisture, harvest _water_, nonetheless, something that was unheard of in most other planets. At some points, during the early years, he was so excited to finally start to work—until he realized he wasn't into farming. Until he realized how much he enjoyed watching the few ships fly over, above, and how he used to daydream about piloting his own starship.

Being 'farm boy' or 'Wormie' was something he couldn't live with, throughout his late schooling. Luke had always been a bright child, from the beginning, for Beru had taught Luke many things. Deciding on whether Luke should go to school was a hard choice—he remembers their conversation perfectly.

Beru had always said that Luke was an early learner, even from his days as a baby. He had learned to crawl quickly, walk quickly, and talk early—he had learned to grab things and throw them, and even make things mysteriously levitate through the air. Calling 'duck!' to the visitors and guests that passed through the Homestead when the child was playing with he toy speeders was something that Beru didn't take pride into, and neither Owen.

He wasn't a farmer.

He was Luke Skywalker, Luke Anakin Skywalker, son of Knight Skywalker, the Hero With No Fear. He realized that now—why aerodynamic objects had such an appeal to him, because they had a certain appeal to Anakin.

"What would you like to drink?"

Causing Luke to blink away from his past, he returned to the present, "Bantha blue milk?" He said; it was hardly a question.

"What?"

Luke's eyes widened. "Is that only a beverage on Tatooine?" He was suddenly upset that he chose not to drink his blue milk on Tatooine when he was a child, instead choosing some other drink that was more 'suitable' for a pre-teenage. He wanted a reminder of home, per say—

Sola nodded, much to Luke's dismay.

* * *

Later that night, everyone was seated at the dinner table, except for a missing Anakin. Luke couldn't help but feel empty without his father. Even though he had known him for such a short time, his attachment to his own flesh and blood was increasing every time Luke saw his identical blue eyes. He missed his father—he couldn't hide it.

"Luke," Ryoo groaned, "You've hardly touched your food."

It was true; he had been so hungry before, suddenly he couldn't find any of the amazing smell appealing. He frowned, staring down into his full plate. "Sorry," he muttered.

In the corner of his eye he noticed Ryoo and Sola exchange glances. Sola began to speak, causing Luke to lift his head and look into her eyes, "Would you like me to wrap it up for you to save for later?" She asked.

Luke smiled upon the kind gesture, and decided to go for it. "Thank you," he agreed, nodding. "I'll eat it when I'm ready." _When my father comes—_

"Luke, well we're going to turn in," Sola rubbed Luke's arm, seemingly to comfort him. He didn't need comforting. "You're room is the third on the left, just upstairs."

Ryoo flashed Sola a harsh look, clearly it read '_what the _hell_ are you thinking_?'. Luke couldn't help but notice it.

He nodded, getting up from his chair. Pooja leaned over as the small family was departing upstairs, and whispered something in his ear. It was brief, quiet, but he could interpret it—"Meet me outside in the garden, later tonight."

Luke gave an unnoticeable nod. Pooja surprisingly pick it up, and winked. His cousin's small signal of care for Luke was something to be treasured, he knew, and he was so excited to finally have someone—to finally have… a _friend_?

* * *

Luke sat on the cold, stone bench next to Pooja and wrapped a warm robe around him. The wind started to pick up outside, making a blustering noise against the many flowers and bushes around him. The garden was eerie at this hour.

"Luke," Pooja started, "I knew about—well—about your parents."

"What about them?" Luke barked. He couldn't help himself.

She motioned for Luke to lower his voice. "I knew about—about my aunt, Padmé, and your father, Anakin. I knew they were together."

"But—no one knew."

Pooja placed her hand onto of his. It was cold. "Lie," she said with a smirk, "My mother took your mother to the doctor when she thought she was—well, when she thought she might be pregnant… with you," it was kind of an awkward sentence, and Luke felt the negativity. "But I knew before that."

Luke watched with wondering eyes, only hearing the wind blow and the trees rustle. The coldness pierced him, and he yearned to go back inside, but neglected to.

"I caught your—parents—kissing," she said. "When I was six."

Luke only imagined a six year old Pooja giggling upon seeing a man and a woman together publicly, kissing. He saw her surprised but pleased expression on her face so many years ago, knowing that Pooja must have been a happy child.

Pooja smiled. "I went back to the kitchen to get—a cookie, I think," she frowned upon her getting another cookie. She sighed, obviously thinking how she ate so many of those up until she was ten—"I was jealous. But _happy_. I mean, I knew something others didn't!"

Luke laughed, and he felt like he was six again, too. He couldn't image Anakin kissing his mother, for he had never met Padmé before, but knew she was indeed a wonderful woman. Still, imagining Anakin being romantic sickened him, like it would for any growing teenager.

"So that's why we came out here?" He was hoping for me.

She smiled. "_That_," she grabbed his wrist, yanking him up, "And I wanted to show you around the gardens."

* * *

_A/N_: Wow, I haven't done one of these in a while. This chapter was kind of a filler chapter, and I apologize. We'll return to Princess Leia after this chapter, and I'm sorry for leaving you hanging with that cliffie and not return to Leia/Anakin. Thanks for the amazing feedback, too--! 


	17. leia

Chapter 16

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_A/N_: Another new, bright shining chapter. I am really enjoying how this fic is handling out. This is when Leia actually comes into the picture, which is (kind of) big. Oh, and thank you for the wonderful feedback. It is love.

* * *

"Leia _Skywalker_?"

Her voice echoed throughout her room. The eerie glow from the holo documents in her hand shined on her face. Her eyes bugged, and she couldn't believe it. "You've got to be freaking kidding me…"

She plopped herself on the bed unintentionally. She couldn't _believe_ what she was looking at—she couldn't get the thoughts through her head. And the worst thing was, was that Anakin Skywalker—_Darth Vader_—was her father. _All this time_.

He was just standing there. With a hint of smile on his face, he crossed his arms over his broad chest.

Leia stood up, shoving the documents in Anakin's once-crossed arms, and he took it, watching Leia storm into her 'fresher. He watched the door slam, and heard the water running. He heard many things clash together, some dropping on the tile floor, and then she reappeared again. She had a bag on her left hand.

She walked over to her larger suitcase, stuffing it inside on of the many pockets. She grunted while doing so, and then returned back to Anakin's face.

Anakin, watching all this, was flustered—she was so quick on foot, and she was so… _moody_. His eyes widened, he didn't notice, and he waited for Leia to say something. He gulped.

"Anakin Skywalker," she cleared her throat. "I am Princess Leia Organa. Your daughter or _not_, I've lived in the palace for many years in my life. I am a royal, and I am Prince Bail Organa's daughter, also of Queen Breha Organa. Although she is six feet under," this was a grim subject, but she dismissed it rather carelessly, "she is my mother. You came in here, Anakin Skywalker, and denied the fact that you are Darth Vader. I've seen your face many times before, and I've even met you a few times. During those times, although, you gave me quite a bit of respect but it wasn't enough. It is what I expect from a Sith Lord like _yourself_.

"So whether or not you're that terrible monster or not you're still the same person in physical form," she said. Her speech was rather long, Anakin concluded. Leia had a politician's voice too—"I'm loyal to Alderaan."

She turned her back to him, which left him flabbergasted…

What was he supposed to say to _that_?

Then he noticed that she was still packing.

"Leia—"

"Princ_ess_!"

"_Princess_ Leia," Anakin started again, grudgingly, "You're still packing." He loved to point this out. He could almost _hear _her smile, if that was possible. But was followed was silence, but she stopped placing elegant items into her suitcases.

She turned to face him, and her smile Anakin was so sure he felt was gone. Disappeared. They shared a brief stare at each other before Leia said, "My father says I'm going somewhere—I supposed," it was almost like it suddenly hit her, "I'm going with you."

He nodded. "You are my daughter."

She opened her mouth to say something, but no words were spoken. She ran her hand across the top of her hair, smoothing down the stray stands. Turning back around, she zipped up her suitcases, placing the two on the floor, extending the handle. "I am your daughter," she stated, grasping the suitcase.

* * *

"Leia!" Bail said as he saw his daughter run into the room. "You—best be going now." That was all that Anakin heard. He watched Father/Daughter share this moment that he knew could never be his. He could never raise Princess Leia Organa to be Leia Skywalker—he knew that well. Luke Skywalker would never fully be his, unless he and Padmé had raised him. If he and Padmé had raised both of them—things would have been so much _different_.

They hugged; Bail grasping Leia with such force, with such effort—Anakin couldn't bear to look. He stared at the many books and holograms sealed within this library. He leaned his elbow on Leia's suitcase clumsily, trying his hardest not to see his daughter and Organa through the corner of his eye.

Bail was walking over to Anakin now.

"Vader," Bail said, causing Anakin to look at him, still responding to that terrible name. "Take good care of her?"

He smiled, for once seeing how much Organa had grown attached to her. It suddenly hit him with a pang, knowing that Organa's wife had died when Leia was young, and his daughter was the only living family he had. Breha was long deceased, and it was almost like he was losing another to death…

As much as he felt regret, he didn't dote upon it. Leia was his child, his and Padmé's child, and she deserved to be with Anakin, to be with Luke—once and finally.

"Yes, Senator Organa," he said. Unintentionally, Anakin placed a loving hand on Leia's shoulder. She shrugged it off, knowing that Darth Vader could never be her father—

This motion suddenly reminded Anakin of a restless Luke during his time as a Sith Lord when Luke pushed him away, knowing that Vader would never be his father, as well. But Anakin wasn't Vader anymore. He would never be again—he made a vow to his son.

Walking out of the palace was something he knew must have been hard for Leia. He watched her as she took one last look at the objects, the pictures, and the staircases around her, taking them in so she could remember them forever. She was a strong kid, for she didn't cry, she didn't whimper.

"You're a lot like your mother, you know that?" He said once they were outside, past the guards. The snow fell rapidly outside, and Leia bundled herself in her white coat.

"Shut up," she snapped, almost whispering.

_Harsh._

Anakin hushed, and it was silent until they reached the ship. Once aboard, Leia curled herself up the passenger seat in the cockpit, not knowing where they were going. She crossed her arms, crossed her legs, and let out an exasperated sigh.

When he ignored her huff, she sighed again, this time louder. The ship lifted itself off the ground and he hoped he could 'bond' with Leia. "Could you put in the coordinates for Naboo?" He asked, for the transmitter was towards Leia.

She pouted. "Naboo?" She hadn't known where their destination was.

He nodded solemnly, earning a gaze from Leia.

Her frown was suddenly gone, and she uncrossed herself, sitting up in the seat. She pressed in the coordinates for the lush planet of Naboo. "Why Naboo?" She asked. Her voice wasn't harsh anymore; it was kind, questioning, and curious.

"That's where—we live," he answered. He didn't know whether they lived there, exactly, but that was where he and Padmé would have wanted to raise a family, and he wanted to do precisely that. He planned to live on Varykino for a while, and then enroll Luke and Leia in school in Theed, where they'd receive the proper education.

"Oh," she said. He felt a flicker in the force, then, "We?"

He nodded quickly, "You, me and Luke."

Her head whirled around like an owl, "Wait, Skywalker?"

He chuckled, veering out of the atmosphere, "That's his last name, _yeah_…"

Leia's mouth formed a small 'o'. She was surprised, but not too surprised. She had met the boy on her birthday a while ago, but not to long ago to remember the boy. He was odd and quirky, and a bit nervous around her. It was an odd coincidence now.

"Why do you ask?" He looked at her this time, meeting her big, brown eyes. "Did you meet him—or something?"

"No," she lied. "I mean—yes. _Yes_, I met him. A while back in the Senate Arena—it was my birthday. And his, too." It all made sense now—Luke had thought it was a coincidence as well, the reason he approached her.

No, they were _twins_. She was a _twin_. She had a _brother_.

Anakin was puzzled. They had met—didn't they feel anything in the force? Was Leia strong as well? Of course she was… she was Anakin's daughter—the great Jedi Knight who fought throughout the Clone Wars!

Maybe they did feel something, but had mistaken it for something else—

"Did he tell you?"

He shook his head after thinking about it, "No." He stopped shaking his head. Maybe he had, but he had rejected it—"No, he didn't."

Leia nodded, although not fully understanding—and not fully caring, either. Her mood rapidly changed when she thought about this entire situation,

"I'm glad we're going to Naboo," as if Anakin had taken this as a light, happy comment, "Because Naboo is full of space, and many fields so that I can get _far_ away from _you_."

Anakin gulped. His daughter, too, had _nice_, ruthless wit.

* * *


	18. goodnights

Chapter 17

* * *

It was late when Anakin arrived back at the Lake Cottage; the house was dark, the curtains were shut, blocking out the impending morning sunrise. There were only two lights on, and they were coming from around the fountain in the garden, where Anakin and Padmé had spent so many nights, just talking… 

Leia was curled up in a ball in the next seat over from Anakin's, and her legs were pressed to her chest. He watched her while she slept, looking so peaceful. Leia was stubborn, there was no doubt about it—but seeing her asleep, in this form, she was an angel to him.

_An Angel._

He blinked past another memory, giving a sleeping Leia a tiny shove on the arm. She mumbled something, obviously not wanting to be disturbed during her deep sleep; she pushed away from him, turning so her back was facing him.

Anakin seriously considered taking her and carrying her inside the house, placing her into her bed next to Luke, but then decided against it. She'd awake, not knowing where she was—that would _not_ be pretty.

He frowned, deciding to give her another push on the arm. She finally awoke, stretching her arms up, letting her curled up body come out, releasing her tensed muscles. For a moment she hadn't remembered where she was, who she was with—"_Wh_—?" Then she looked around, seeing his face. "Oh."

He smirked. Holding out his hand to her, silently pleading with her to follow him, he got up from his seat.

She reluctantly took his hand, throwing him a fussy look, making a sighing sound with her mouth—she had no other choice, she decided. Stifling a yawn, she asked, "Where do I sleep?"

He led her out of the cockpit, lowering the bridge, "In the bed next to Luke."

She frowned. _Awkward, much? _Groaning, she followed outside, soaking in the hot, moist, summer air of the planet Naboo. Leia couldn't help but feel happy at this place—it was one of those planets that you were happy to be on, comfortable to walk around on. She had only been there once before, and the entire time she spent in her father's quarters. Her father had ordered her to stay there, and not to be seen.

She then noticed they had landed on a lake, a particularly large lake, and there was a large house situated right on it. There was a distinctly beautiful balcony with many gardens lining it, that at even in this light, through her sleepiness, she could still sense its radiance.

Darth Vader stands beside her, almost ironically in this beautiful place. She snorted, as he heard, and she smiled. She was proud of the fact that she was annoying him to his last strand.

He led her inside, the French doors opening with a creak, but slowly, for Anakin was careful not to wake anyone. Leia trudged in, dragging her suitcase on the tile floor, the wheels making loud noises as they grazed over the indents on the tiles. She let out a chuckle, impressed by her creativity to make such a stink in front of Vader.

Following Anakin down the tapestry lines corridors, Leia peaked into every room, disappointed by the fact that the doors were shut.

He abruptly stopped on the door that led to the last bedroom. He opened the door slowly at first, peaking in to check that Luke was sound asleep already—he was, he could feel it in the force—and then proceeded to open the door wider, letting Leia go in and put her stuff down. The light from the hallway flooded the room, making the two appear as giant shadows.

"Be quiet," he warned, silently motioning to a sleeping Luke.

She made an obnoxious noise with her mouth and put her suitcases down. She walked over to her twin bed on the other side of Luke's, pulling down the carefully made comforter. She slipped in, muttering something Anakin couldn't hear.

"Good-night," Anakin said. It was almost a question, and he couldn't fathom the idea of his own _daughter_ not saying anything to him beside sleep.

Silence.

He closed the door behind him, the light disappearing from the room.

* * *

He yawned, stretching out. Last night had been good, he decided—Pooja had shown him the places around the retreat, and he was pleased upon seeing them. The gardens were just beautiful; he couldn't wait to see them in the daytime. He fixed his eyes on the sights of never ending green outside of his window, and he smiled. 

Pushing back the covers, his gaze drifted over to the twin bed next to him.

And he let out a small scream.

* * *

She awoke by the sound of a boy's scream, and at first she was confused. When the sleepiness finally broke away from her, when she gained all consciousness, she was reminded where she was. 

And she groaned.

Turning to meet the boy's eyes, to watch him squirm away from the strange girl in the other bed, she smiled. Letting out a small chuckle, she said, "_Relax._ It's just me."

Luke sprang to his feet anyway, but then stopped upon hearing Leia's voice. "Leia?"

She nodded. "Yeah," she said, "I got here last night."

He was confused for a moment. He didn't know what to say—actually, everything seemed to be confusing all at once. Why was _she_ here? His eyes widened as he tried to comprehend this information. Had his father _captured_ Leia?

"_What_?"

It was barely a whisper, but the simple word summed up the entire situation.

She pushed back the pillow, getting out of her bed, "I _said_," she started, sighing, "I got here last night. 'Darth Vader' brought me here."

"—Anakin," he corrected.

"_Whatever_."

"Why—why did he bring you _here_?"

She made her way over to the door, "I'm your sister, you _nerfherder_—didn't he tell you where he was going?" She turned the doorknob, letting the cool air from the hallway evade the small room.

Luke shook his head. "You can't be my—my… sister," he couldn't fathom the idea. His first real crush—on his sister—_gross_! She was probably just joking. He didn't have a sister. He was Anakin and Padmé Skywalker's only child. Their _only _child—right?

She stifled a stuttered laugh, "But I am," she spat, "I will not accept it, though, that I'm the child of—of—_Vader_. I won't. I certainly will not accept that interesting tid bit of information!"

Luke didn't bother to correct her this time; he knew that she would have to accept Anakin as someone other than Vader herself, like he did. "Information?" He asked, "What _information_?"

"I don't know," she slurred her words, throwing her hands up in the air. Luke found himself trailing behind her, not even noticing that they were practically shouting in this _early_ hour, "_Birth records_, school stuff—_something _about that."

For a peaking politician, Luke noted that Leia certainly had an interesting temper.

"Birth records?"

And then it hit him.

_Twins_.

He and Leia were twins—they had the same life days, they had the same parents. Padmé Amidala had two babies instead of one, so Luke was right upon saying that there was only one pregnancy. Which there was—but there were two babies.

Split apart at birth.

Leia whirled around to meet Luke's eyes, as if their connection together was thickening.

They both mouthed, 'twins' to each other.

Brother and Sister took their seats at the wooden kitchen table, not noticing that there was no one around to dote upon them, not caring. Just at that moment, Anakin entered, a surprised look on his face, seeing his two children sitting together in utter peace and quiet.

He hadn't expecting this.

_Quiet? Hell, I'd think they'd be yelling at each other. Or worse, yelling at _me_…_ "Good morning," he said, not as bright and cheery as he expected. "I see you've met each other again." There was a certain tone in his voice that implied something, but he couldn't put his finger on it—

"At what point were you going to tell me that I had a twin sister?" Luke snapped, his voice rising high.

Anakin froze. "Today, actually," he replied slyly, after thinking about what he was going to say. He pulled the seat out from under the table and sat down across from Luke and Leia. "I would have thought you would be happy."

The boy gulped. "I guess I am—I don't know _what_ to think, father."

Leia said nothing. She didn't engage in the conversation at all. Actually, she was looking up at the ceiling, not caring if Anakin had anything to say.

She hated this man. Darth Vader—the infamous Sith Lord who ruled by the emperor's side for eleven years. He was the man who had hurt a perfectly good Republic, a perfectly good democracy. He was the man who killed many innocent (from her point of view) Jedi Masters, Padawans, and even younglings. He was the one who laid off many Senators that once stood for peace. He was the one who sent Master Kenobi into hiding.

Ah, Master Kenobi. She hadn't thought of him in a while, but he was out there. Kenobi had occasionally visited the palace when she was a little girl below the standard age of ten. He said he was there to 'check up on things', but all he would do was stay in his room, and sometimes show up for the royal dinner.

He didn't stay long. He said that he had other things to attend to, other people to check up on. He always said it with his teddy bear smile, too, which gave Leia a sense of familiarity with his man. He would always say to Bail, 'She looks just like her mother.' Leia assumed it was a compliment, for her mother was very pretty, all thought Breha died when Leia was very young, but Bail never seemed to smile. It was almost as if he was remembering someone other than Breha.

Leia knew now that Bail was remembering her birth mother. The wife of Vader—the mother of Luke Skywalker—her mother.

_Padmé_.

From the hologram.

"I didn't know you were out there," Anakin was saying to her. She had missed the other parts of the conversation, too busy musing on Master Kenobi, a man long _forgotten_.

"Didn't you feel me in—in the…" She tried to recall the name that Kenobi had used, "force?"

He smirked, but not evilly. It was if she reminding him of someone, as if he was remembering someone long gone, like Bail had. "I don't know why I didn't."

"You blocked everything out," Luke interjected. "The dark side, I mean. Before."

Anakin stared at him like he had no idea what he was saying.

Luke sighed. "You blocked the memories of my mother—thus losing the bond with her," he said. It was all making sense, "with _us_."

The other Jedi nodded. "I believe you're right, young one," he said with a smile. He reached out to ruffle Luke's hair, but then decided against it, thinking how he hated when people did that when he was young, "Waking up to seeing Leia must have been quite a surprise, huh?"

Luke chuckled on the near memory. "Yeah," he said, "It was."

"Not to me," Leia said, rather immaturely. Was she trying to gain Anakin's attention? "You dumped me in that room in the dead of the night. I kind of _saw_ him there." She crossed her arms over her chest.

Anakin sighed. He knew Leia wouldn't think of Anakin as her father for a while, but he didn't think it would be this hard—"Breakfast, anyone?"

* * *

_A/N_: Haha! Oh my gosh, muchos gracias on the feedback. The next chapter will be something a little less lighthearted, I guess. School has become hectic for me, but I'll try to find time to write. Thanks again! 


	19. adding up

Chapter 18

* * *

Theed was a busy city. The people bustled by with baskets of fresh Nubian fruit, groceries, and jugs of water. They came in crowds, hurrying by, because they had other things to do 'besides shop around'. Luke stayed close to his father, following his heel, and Leia stayed close to Luke, knowing that getting near Anakin might trigger something she didn't want.

Anakin stopped upon a small, hometown café that had a table for three outside. They quietly sat at it, looking over their menus in silence.

Despite the many people around, Anakin suddenly felt so—_alone_. He'd always been alone for the past years, but now, he had his children with him. It was supposed to be a happy time, right?

Wrong.

Leia didn't want to be there. She didn't want anything to do with 'Darth Vader'.

The waiter came over to their table, taking their order, and then scurried off to place it—they were left alone once again, sitting in silence. With the menus gone, they had nothing to occupy their eyes, nothing to stare at to have an excuse for not speaking to one another.

They ate in silence. The placing of forks and knifes on their plates was the only sounds to be heard at that table. Onlookers found it odd to see a quaint little family eating without speaking one word. Anakin sighed, knowing that this was going to be his life unless he did something about it.

Reaching inside his cloak, and pulling out a few credits, he placed a few on the table in front of his children, "Go buy yourselves something in the stalls," he said with a pushed smile.

Luke grabbed the coins, jingling them in his hand, but Leia made no move to do anything.

Silently cursing to himself, he begged, "Please."

Luke turned towards Leia, "Come on, Leia—we can go together," he said, all but unkind. He picked up Leia's coins, placing them in her hand. Anakin watched as she sighed inwardly, getting up and following Luke to the stalls across the street.

Anakin got up to pay the tab, using the only left credits in his pocket. No, there wouldn't be anything else to buy.

Forcing a jagged smile, he strode outside of the shop and looked through the stalls himself. He noticed the woman's jewelry, the bags, the many fruits and vegetables, the antiques—he yearned to be here with Padmé, watching their children go off and spend their money on whatever they wanted. _Spoiling them silly_, Anakin thought. He smiled.

Maybe they'd even have more children—_no_, he couldn't think like that. He knew he'd never get over her, but she was lost. She was no longer a part of him, but one with the force. There was nothing he could do to bring her back.

* * *

"Luke," Leia called, waving him over to the stall full of jewelry, "What about this one?" She held it up to her neckline, a necklace, and showed it to her brother, who she now thought of as more of a friend.

Luke groaned. "I was never one for shopping," he said with a smile.

She winced, again thinking she could be on Alderaan, running through the snow…

Seeing Leia upset made Luke's heart ach, thinking that she would never adjust to life with Luke and Anakin. He moved a step towards her, picking up the necklace before she dropped it back onto the stall, "No, get it." He said, smiling, "It looked great on you."

She smiled genuinely, "Really?"

He nodded. "Yeah," he placed the necklace in her hand, "I'm sure father will be happy you bought something."

Suddenly, seeing Leia's face, Luke knew he had said the wrong thing. Her expression of happiness changed to utter disappointment, like he had just ruined the entire thing for her. A moment later, though, much to Luke's surprise, she was back again to smiling.

"I'm going to get it," she reported, placing the necklace in front of the cashier who kindly packaged it for her. She placed all of her credits in front of the woman who took them, popping them into the machine.

Grabbing her bag, Leia turned around and was faced with about fifty HoloNet reporters.

Luke grabbed Leia's arm and linked it with his. He was frightened; Leia could feel it.

A group of several men pushed a microphone in front of both Luke and Leia's faces, expecting them to say something_—"WHY ARE YOU ON NABOO?"_

"_WHO IS THIS… BOY YOU'RE SEEN WITH?"_

"_WILL HE BECOME PRINCE, AN HEIR TO THE THRONE?"_

"_IT IS SPOKEN THAT DARTH VADER IF AROUND HERE. IS THAT WHY YOU ARE HERE?"_

"_WHERE IS PRINCE SENATOR ORGANA?"_

"_ARE YOU STILL SUFFERING FROM YOUR MOTHER'S DEATH?"_

"_HOW LONG WILL YOU BE HERE?"_

"_WHAT IS THE BOY'S NAME?"  
_

"_WHERE IS HE FROM?"_

"_ARE YOU HERE ON A SENATORIAL SCHOOLING COURSE?"_

"_THE PUBLIC WOULD LIKE TO KNOW!!"_

There were many more. Leia could take it. She turned around, almost hiding behind the stall where she bought her necklace. She buried her face his Luke's shoulder, as if he wasn't as afraid as she was.

And then, there was a silence.

* * *

Picking up a pot, and surveying it, and then putting it down, Anakin felt something—unusual—in the force. He'd never felt anything like this before, except for many years ago when he saw his wife's ship descending upon Mustafar…

They were in danger.

Luke. Leia.

His _children_.

Dashing over to where he had seen them last, saw a large crowd forming around them, and many flashes of HoloNet news cameras blinked off their faces, Leia's head buried into her brother's shoulder, her arm around him. Luke soothed her, and Anakin felt at peace knowing that they'd be brother and sister, even if he couldn't be Leia's father.

He reached for his lightsaber, the red menace still hanging on his utility belt. It was a sin to use it, especially now that its blade had smothered so many and sent all to their innocent death…

The red snap hiss was heard, and the constant chattering stopped.

The news crew stared in awe at the scene before them, seeing the Dark Lord who mysteriously disappeared defending two young children—and using his weapon to fight against them.

The silence, though, only last for a moment, until the news crew finally realized what their job was. They shoved many microphones, just as they did to Luke and Leia, in front of his face, and he rudely slashed them away with the palm of his hand, sending them flying onto the ground. The silence resumed again, over taken by the words of a young girl—

"Father!"

* * *

She was hugging him.

And he deserved it.

Leia looked up to see the glimmer in Anakin's eyes, as he looked from Luke in astonishment down to Leia's soft brown hair. Luke kindly shrugged, almost as happy as Anakin was that she had finally accepted Anakin as her—her…

"Father," she echoed again, releasing her tight grip, noticing that the crowd that been scared away. "You—you…"

He didn't really 'save them', per say. He had done some 'saving' during his days as a Jedi, and after he turned to the Sith for answers, the 'saving' had gone. Anakin could only breathe a nervous smile, knowing that maybe this would be the start of their family.

Leia began to dig into the brown paper bag the cashier had given her, and then proved successful by holding her necklace in front of Anakin's face. "Look," she said, "I bought this—thank you for the money."

"It's very pretty, your highness," he said formally. He hated speaking to her like this, but knowing he had to gain her trust, her respect—

"Leia, father," she said, looking down, shuffling her feet, "My name's Leia."

Anakin felt a smile creeping onto his face; he couldn't help it. Hearing Leia say for Anakin to call her in causalities was something that he couldn't get used to, until later, of course. He felt a pang of happiness swell his heart upon hearing his daughter speak kindly, softly, like he had heard her speak when he was on Alderaan—when he _spied_ on his own daughter.

"C'mon, Leia," Luke suddenly came up from behind, linking arms with his sister. He pointed to the collection of dark clouds forming above them, "We have to get back to the lake retreat before it starts to rain—we have to go swimming!"

No one was more surprised to hear him utter those words than Luke—he _hated_ swimming, as he told Ryoo and Pooja. But, he was discovering to enjoy it, especially since everyone was there now. All of a sudden, he loved the water.

Leia nodded slowly, biting her lip. She walked with Luke, up until they reached the transport station where they'd take their train to the lake country.

Anakin walked in the background, watching his two children converse about the subtleties of Naboo, and Alderaan, what they were used to, and how life would be different now. He watched them walk, and he knew this would be something he would remember forever. The morning had started off with screaming, yelling, fighting, and cursing—but, in the end, Anakin ended up earning a daughter, and Leia ended up earning a father.

He would never be the father that Bail Organa was for Leia; he would never be the man who saw her grow up. He would never be the father that Owen Lars was for Luke, even if Luke only called him uncle. He'd never be that figure for them—he'd never feed them their first meal from a can, never give them their first bath, never watch them take their first steps—but that didn't matter.

He'd watch them eat their first meals in the morning, before rushing off to their first day of high school. He'd watch them bring home their first boyfriend/girlfriend, and he'd be the father who couldn't let go. He'd watch them grow into teenagers, and into adults. He'd watch them become their own person, their own self—he'd watch them pursue the careers that they chose, not what he chose.

In the end, it all added up.

* * *

_A/N_: Aw, we're almost to the end of our story! Please review, I'd like to know what your input was on this chapter! Thanks! 


	20. don't do it pt 1

Chapter 19

Part One

* * *

Obi-Wan Kenobi sipped his coffee, and coughed upon realizing that it was too hot. He sulked, like he usually did in the morning, and plopped down on his hard futon, looking out the adobe window. From here he could see the distant surrounding cities and, most importantly, the Lars residence.

But that didn't matter anymore.

He hadn't done what Yoda had asked. He hadn't done what he had _promised_. He had failed, like he failed upon killing Anakin—no, Darth Vader.

The news of the death of Palpatine was a relief, but it made him wonder who did it—who committed such a felony. It was something he couldn't live with, not knowing who killed the most hated man in the galaxy. He had a sneaking suspicion it was Vader…

But no one had seen Vader in months. He hadn't landed on any planets—he wasn't recognized in the galaxy.

That brought him to another topic.

Luke, Anakin's son, was missing. Another thing he couldn't live with—Luke was missing. Obi-Wan had pestered Beru and Owen so much about that day when he went missing—he almost regretted it. Almost, but not quite. Luke was a light in the darkness, someone who would bring balance to the force, something his father never did, and never saw the opportunity to fulfill his destiny.

Enter Luke.

He sighed; his hands finger the remote to turn on the HoloNet news. The news was the only key to the outside world, for 'exile' on Tatooine meant going limited spaces. He could set off to find Luke, something he planned to do, but he would have turned but by now. There was no—

"Recent reports have told us that Darth Vader, dark lord of the Sith, second in command to the late emperor, was spotted in Theed, Naboo only a few hours ago. It would seem that the dark lord has disappeared after the death of his master, leading to believe that Vader was the real killer in his mess."

Obi-Wan sucked in a breath.

Naboo.

_Naboo._

Padmé… he was there to find her…

"The plot twists when a few reporters were seen taking pictures of Princess Leia Organa, who was unaccompanied by neither her father, Organa, or a handmaiden, but a boy."

Another, deeper, fuller breath was sucked from him. If he weren't already sitting, he'd collapse into a chair.

A picture of no other than Luke came across the screen. "An unnamed boy, bearing resemblance to Darth Vader, took the Princess by the hand and they hid from the reporters, having enough."

_Took the hand? Bearing resemblance to Darth Vader? Oh, my—_

"That was when Vader appeared, with his red lightsaber igniting. The reporters scurried off, not wanting anything to do with Vader or his weapon that killed Palpatine. The rest is a mystery."

He had to phone Organa.

Moments later, a shadowy blue image of Bail appeared before Obi-Wan, and he frowned, noticing Obi-Wan's disturbed expression. "Ben Kenobi," he said, "I was expecting to hear from you by now." Bail's tone was rough, but not entirely mad. Obi-Wan hadn't done what he had come to Tatooine to do. He deserved this.

"Senator Organa, I apologize," he said. He cut to the chase, "Is it true that Leia is on Naboo?"

Organa solemnly nodded. "I couldn't refuse Vader—he pestered me into giving up Leia. After all, she is—"

"Don't say it," Obi-Wan held up his hand, stopping Bail, "There is no need. Leia is of blood relation to Padmé Amidala and _Anakin_ Skywalker. Not Darth Vader. I assure you, they are entirely different people."

"How can you be sure?" Bail challenged.

Obi-Wan cocked his head, surprised by Bail's sudden tone, "I battled Vader, I've knew Anakin for thirteen years. We were a _team_, Senator."

"But did you or did you not know that Senator Amidala and Anakin were secretly married? You didn't," he answered, "How can you be sure that Vader hasn't been redeemed?"

Obi-Wan didn't even consider this. "That is impossible—"

"I don't believe so," Bail interrupted. "The man that was here assured me to call him Anakin, _not_ Vader. I do not think that Vader would want me to call him 'Anakin'. Yes, the Jedi teach 'Once you start down the dark path, forever will it dominate your destiny'. I know that all too well, Master Kenobi. The daughter that I raised for eleven years showed signs of the force, but under your orders, we were told to ignore them. I've read about the force, Master Kenobi, and Darth Vader has, and will remain, _redeemed_."

Obi-Wan didn't know how to answer Organa. He didn't know what to say…

Had Anakin returned?

The shift in the force might as well have been other force users dying, others being killed—but it may have been Leia, Luke, and Anakin being together again. Anakin. _Anakin_…

"I need to go to Naboo."

* * *

"Good morning, Aunt Sola," Leia said in a singsong voice as she flew down the stairs. It was an early hour, but she always woke up early, especially when the weather was so perfect on Naboo, and the air was so fresh—she couldn't wait to get out into it.

"'Morning, Leia," Sola said, trying to hold back her yawn, but not succeeding, "My, aren't you up early?"

Leia nodded, taking her seat at the kitchen table. "I usually get up this early. I like the air at this time, and to hear the birds singing."

"Poetic."

Sola poured herself a cup of coffee, joining Leia at the kitchen table. "You've changed an awful lot since you first came here, Leia," she said, "I hope it's not to weird to talk about."

"Darth Vader has changed."

Sola didn't know what to say to this—she nodded, the words finally coming to her, "He's Anakin now."

Cutting her shuura fruit, Leia sighed, "Yes, I know," she said, "but I can't help but feel like he wants more—it's almost like he _always_ wants _more_…"

Sola, too, sighed. "You're father misses your mother very much. We all do," she looked down into her coffee, stirring it slowly, musing on what Padmé would think of this—she didn't know. "I knew she would have loved to be—with you," tears formed in her eyes but she brushed them away before they could shed, "She always wanted a family of her own."

Leia couldn't respond. She didn't know _how_ to respond. She didn't know how to handle the comments about Padmé when her father had told them to her, before Leia officially accepted him as her father. It was something she regretted now. She watched Sola burst into tears, burying her face in her hands.

She watched her. Placing a hand on Sola's shoulder, she caressed, "It's okay…"

Interrupting this mess, Teckla, the family handmaiden, strode into the room, announcing, "You have a visitor, milady," she told Sola.

"Who is it?"

"Someone by the name of Ben Kenobi, milady," she bowed.

Sola and Leia exchanged glances. "Send him in," Sola said, sniffling.

* * *

"Milady wishes you inside," the handmaiden told Obi-Wan.

Puzzled on who milady was, he followed the handmaiden's hand to the door, where he entered. He took him the quiet lake house, and he decided that this was where Anakin and Padmé had gone when she was sent to hide. In such a romantic place, it was no wonder they fell in love—

He caught sight of Leia. She was no more of a princess that he was, not blood, anyways. She never followed the rules, even as a child—he remembered getting midnight phone holos asking why she was crying, 'they tried everything', why she always levitated when she knew not to, for 'they told her to stop.' It wasn't enough. She was her father's child.

She had grown since he last saw her—she was five. He hadn't really seen her, either, just peeked into her bedroom, watching her sleep soundly. It was such a peaceful sight, Obi-Wan recalled, such a peaceful sight during the dark times…

"Ben Kenobi?" She echoed. God, she sounded like Padmé there.

He nodded.

"What are you doing here?"

Obi-Wan fiddled with her fingers nervously. "I—I—came to see… Anakin," he said. _Wow, it felt weird to say that after all these years._

Leia gulped. "Oh," she managed to say. "Well he's not up yet."

"Obi-Wan?"

Both their heads turned to see Anakin at the top of the staircase, staring down at Obi-Wan was the most baffled expression she'd ever seen. He glared daggers at Kenobi, and then said, "What are you doing here? How'd you find me?"

Obi-Wan, too, gulped, feeling the lump in his throat slowly move down his throat, "The HoloNet said you were spotted here. Luke went missing. It all added up, Vader."

He made his way down the stairs, his eyes level with Obi-Wan's once again as he reached the bottom. They stood in front of each other, but Anakin took a step back upon realization that his old master might be here for another reason, a reason that he promised to fulfill many years ago…

"Don't do it," Anakin said lowly. He saw Obi-Wan's hand hovering over his lightsaber, and the Jedi Master flashed Anakin a puzzled look.

"Don't do it," he echoed, almost replying to Obi-Wan's puzzlement. "I stand my guard. You don't need to kill me, but if you want to—"

Obi-Wan's hand still stayed there, over the lightsaber, ready to call to the force so it could spring action ignite and the sounds in the room would be _snap-hiss_. But he didn't—yet. "Want to? _Want_ to? I had never wanted to—ever. It wasn't my choice to come and seek you out on Mustafar; Yoda _requested _me to do so. I could have never faced the emperor."

It was a duty. A duty to come and find him—hunt him down—on Mustafar, where he would kill him, if not bring him back. He couldn't.

"All those years ago on that damn planet—I had to follow Senator Amidala," he could never get used to calling her 'Padmé', "She hadn't known that I was in her storage compartment on her cruiser…"

"_She hadn't known_?" Anakin roared. "You snuck onto her ship, and I killed her because you snuck onto her ship?"

"You didn't kill her then," came Obi-Wan's calm reply.

Anakin lowered his head so he was staring at the floor, "I know that now," he said solemnly, implying Luke and Leia.

"She was weak after you choked her, Anakin," he said, "But she had Luke and Leia, your children—and died shortly after." Remembrance of the day was hazy, for everything was one big blur to Obi-Wan, and probably Anakin, as well; he hardly remembered exactly what happened. "It was just too long ago…"

Anakin nodded, his eyes glazed over. He pressed his hand to his temples, and collapsed in a nearby chair.

He could hear loud stomps coming towards him.

"You _killed_ her?"

It was Leia.

"You _killed_ my _mother_? It was you—it was _you_?"

Anakin lifted his head, staring Leia in her big, brown eyes. Her face was read and long tears were coming down her face, and Anakin felt his heart break a little more upon seeing his daughter cry—oh, how she looked to Padmé, on that day on Mustafar.

"You're the reason Luke and I were sent to separate homes! You're the reason Luke was sent to _a farm_—he didn't _belong_ there! I didn't belong as a princess—I _never_ did. It was all _you_…"

"No, Leia, please…"

"It was all you! You're the reason for this _empire_; you're the reason that the galaxy needed a _Rebel Alliance_! You're the reason the Senators were all laid off—almost _all_ of them. Oh, you're not my father. _No father of mine_, that is…

"…You're just Darth Vader."

* * *

_A/N_: Only part one of two in this chapter. I'll have that up ASAP, probably tomorrow. Feedback is love. 


	21. don't do it pt 2

Chapter 19

Part Two

* * *

This was it. Obi-Wan saw what was happening—he knew how to take it in his hands. He knew how to handle it. 

He knew how to _deal_ with it.

His stark blue lightsaber ignited, the _snap hiss_ louder than ever. The brilliant blue bar of light reflected over Obi-Wan's face, and soon Anakin's. His old padawan didn't flinch, he just stared up at Obi-Wan with big, blue eyes.

He was frightened.

Obi-Wan hadn't seen Anakin afraid of a lightsaber since he was put in the youngling class, when he picked up the weapon for the first time. He held the learner's weapon in front of him, very far away, and he watched as his wrist twirled it with very large blue eyes. He held the weapon so far away from him—and then Obi-Wan came to help him, coming from behind him to guide in him way…

"_No_!!"

A sandy blonde haired boy Obi-Wan knew too well entered the room, coming behind Obi-Wan like the Jedi Master did so many years ago. Except Luke wasn't helping Obi-Wan, he was—he was… saving Anakin?

Didn't he feel the same way Leia did?

Evidently…

"Don't do it," came the boy's small voice. "Don't kill him." He backed away from Anakin and Obi-Wan, letting Obi-Wan make his choice. Luke had a sneaking suspicion what it would be, as terrible as it was.

"Luke, take your sister," Anakin spat, underneath Obi-Wan's blade, "Take Leia and run away. _Far _away."

"But—"

"It doesn't matter," he told them, "Leave everything else behind while you still can."

_Run away with me… leave everything else behind while we still can…_

Luke backed away so he was standing next to a shaking Leia. He took her hand, and held it tight. He wished he could tell his sister that everything would be okay—that everything would be fine, that Obi-Wan would come to his senses…but Anakin wasn't positive that was what Leia wanted.

It didn't matter.

Anakin quivered, his mind flashing with images of his beloved. He couldn't get them out of his head, either. At the last moments of your death, aren't you supposed to see flashes of your past? Aren't you supposed to see the most important parts in you life? When nothing mattered?

"Master Kenobi!" Luke yelled, as if Obi-Wan couldn't hear him. "I know in years you're going to regret killing Anakin—"

Leia interrupted, "Just as you've regretted going abroad our mother's ship on the way to… um…"

"Mustafar."

She was finally seeing it. She was finally seeing the light to the Anakin/Obi-Wan ploy. Ben Kenobi was wrong at the point. Darth Vader had blood on his hands, but he washed it off—he now had his children, he killed the emperor. Everything was practically perfect…

Obi-Wan's green eyes widened upon hearing Luke and Leia work as a team—together—and it was almost like he had never seen two people work together so ornately before.

Wait—Kenobi and Skywalker were once a team. They were _The_ Team. They were together once—they saw eye to eye, and worked together during the Clone Wars. Those four years were something Obi-Wan had tried to forget, and he didn't fail. He passed. He forgot about the good in Anakin… he way he was as a friend…

_After saving your skin for the tenth time…_

_Ninth time!_

He hadn't forgotten Padmé's last words, though. He hadn't taken them seriously until today, until he realized the truth behind them…

_There's good in him… I know, I know… there… is… still…_

The good in Anakin had reappeared by finding Luke and Leia.

"Listen to them, Obi-Wan," Anakin echoed, his hands relaxing for once after grasping the chair he was seated in ever so tightly. "For once, _listen_…"

"We're not leaving you, father," Luke said, "We're not going anywhere."

"Let him go, Kenobi," Leia growled. Luke flashed her a bravo kind of smile, but Leia couldn't find the guts inside of her to return it. "He's really Anakin Skywalker—not Darth Vader." There was a certain truth behind Leia, and she realized that she had been calling Anakin 'father', but she didn't mean it until now…

The brilliant blue bar of light that once reflected off of Anakin and Obi-Wan's faces was diminished, disappearing into the ornately crafted handle. The Jedi Master tossed it aside, and a soft smile broke from his face.

"Thank you," were the words that crossed Anakin's lips first.

Obi-Wan watched Anakin hop up from the chair, and rush over to the waiting arms of his small children, and his wrapped his arms around them and smiled serenely. The soft childish giggles of Leia and the silence of perfect from Luke were sounds that Obi-Wan had never heard before, and Obi-Wan felt a pang of regret, as he should—

Once Leia and Luke's excitement had left and they were brought into the picture of facing each other—Obi-Wan heard three words:

"I love you."

* * *

Obi-Wan waited outside on the veranda that overlooked the vast lake. He thought about how many leaves from the war that Anakin and Padmé had spent here, when Anakin was supposed to be, quote, 'meditating on the moons of Bogtá'. 

It was a picture that Obi-Wan couldn't seem to place—Anakin and Padmé… as a couple. It always worked, really, but Obi-Wan couldn't picture it. Ever. Even when those blasted HoloNet reports of the Jedi's secret 'lovers' came in, there was a truth to some of them. 'Anakin is seen leaving Senator Amidala's apartment in the early morning…' and 'Senator Padmé Amidala and Knight Skywalker share an intimate rooftop dinner, complete with candles—could there be a kindling romance?'

Obi-Wan laughed, remembering a select few.

"Master Kenobi?" came a voice he knew all too well…

"How many times did I have to tell you to call me Obi-Wan after you became a Knight?"

Anakin smiled. "Maybe once more," he said. "I came to tell you two things—simple, I know… but… _thank you_." He looked down and shuffled his feet. "And—_sorry_."

He looked back up at Obi-Wan, "Thank you because you assisted Padmé—you were there for her when she needed to see a medic, and without you I—I don't think Luke and… Leia would… be here…"

He didn't want to think about that.

"And _sorry_—well, that covers a lot, doesn't?"

The two laughed. Wow, Obi-Wan couldn't think of the last time he and Anakin had laughed together, or that last time Obi-Wan had laughed alone.

Breaking the ice, "You know, Tatooine is a pretty desolate place…"

Anakin frowned. "I know… now you see why I wanted to leave so much," he said, "And Luke grew up there—I can't imagine… he was a farmer, I a slave. Different lives on Tatooine, but not really to the norm."

Obi-Wan nodded. "I watched over Luke, Anakin. From when he was a child to when he was older, and could care for himself." Almost an after thought, "You and Padmé would have been so proud…"

Anakin's frown diminished and he smiled. "She would have been proud of them, right?"

Obi-Wan nodded fiercely, "Of course, Anakin. Luke and Leia are wonderful children—they both share a special quality about them…I don't know, but they are both mixtures of you and Padmé, and it just—_works_."

"You knew Leia when she was young?"

Obi-Wan nodded. "Yes, well—I guess so," he decided, "Senator Organa was a member of the Rebel Alliance, where I was loosely involved."

For the one of the first times, Anakin didn't feel a rush of anxiety.

"I saw her up until she was five," he said, "And then this time. She has changed so much—she's so mature now." He chuckled, "I'd get midnight holos from Breha Organa with a wailing baby in her arms saying that they 'tried everything' but 'Leia levitates my mother's vases—I can't have that!'"

A small smile formed on Anakin's lips, and his eyes averted towards the lake, where his eyes glazed over.

"I always thought she was her father's child," Obi-Wan said, "She was always getting into trouble, even when she was a youngling."

"The mirror image of me," Anakin echoed.

"No, I think Luke is the mirror image of you," Obi-Wan said. He crossed his arms. "He had always resembled you. But I guess Leia has your spirit by Padmé's looks, and Luke has your looks and Padmé's spirit."

"There are some things that are exactly like me on Luke," Anakin said, "Like how he eats—_oh my god_. I thought I was looking at myself."

They both shared a short laugh, but it was cut by some seriousness. Anakin started, his eyes cross, "I want to know everything that transpired on that night on Mustafar," he crossed his arms over his chest. "Even the beginning. When I was gone—like I said, _everything_."

Obi-Wan gulped, and fell back in the patio chair, "You better sit down," he motioned to the pair seat next to him, "It's going to take a while."

Anakin didn't want to ask—'What's so hard? Why can't you tell me?' but decided against it. Something's were better left unsaid. He took the seat next to Obi-Wan.

"You murdered those children in the temple, Anakin," Obi-Wan started, leaning back in his seat. He stared Anakin down, almost soaking up the guilt he felt deep within, "It couldn't be left silent. Yoda sent me to kill you—"

"Please tell me you objected…"

"At first, I did," Obi-Wan held up his hand, almost to stop Anakin from speaking, "But it was my duty—Master Yoda had to face the emperor. I—I couldn't face someone with that power…"

Anakin leaned back, as well, and grunted, wryly accepting why Kenobi couldn't face Palpatine.

"I had to find you. I didn't know where to go," Obi-Wan pressed his hands to his temples, "I used my instinct—the first place I check was Senator—Padmé's apartment. I wasn't expecting you to be there, I just wanted to know if she knew where you were…

"Everything went hazy after that, basically."

"Understood," Anakin said.

"She was in the comfort of her own home—she and it was visible… for the first time… that she was… with child," he coughed, "I knew, I knew—you were the father. And she knew exactly where you were. Even with her political experience, and her fair lying, she couldn't hide it, Anakin. She _knew_ where you were."

_I shouldn't have told her… I shouldn't have told her…_

"I snuck aboard her ship," he said simply, pressing her palms to his eyes. Obi-Wan heard Anakin's loud thumps of her feet on the patio, standing up—

"You had _no right_, Kenobi—_none_!" Anakin roared. "You _invaded_ her privacy… maybe if she was still alive—!!" His eye's echoed of the past, his regrets, his feelings that he still had for Padmé after all these years… he couldn't let go…

"Don't talk like that, Anakin," Obi-Wan said unusually calmly. "She's not alive, and she won't be again."

His old master's words felt like a stab in the heart, like a blade that twisted inside his body, over and over—but he was still alive…

"If you didn't…! If you didn't go aboard her ship…"

"If I didn't, _what_, Anakin? You would have _still_ choked her, she would be severely injured—she'd still be as dead as she is now."

The Jedi Master had a point. If Obi-Wan hadn't been there, Padmé, and his children, could possibly been dead. No one would have been able to help her, and all because Anakin… no, Vader… couldn't control his anger.

_No_.

"Don't tell me I had no right, Anakin," Obi-Wan said, still keeping his cool, "You killed innocent people—you didn't end the Clone Wars like you thought you did. You didn't help anybody… you made it _worse_."

_The cold truth_.

Anakin sat back down in his chair with a low thump, defeated.

Obi-Wan went on, "She didn't know I was on her ship. She didn't know anything until I showed up—I overheard you speaking."

_You're with him! You brought him here to kill me… No, Anakin—No…Anakin, please…_

"I—I choked her. I scared her… for no reason…?! She didn't betray me… she came to bring me back," Anakin echoed.

Obi-Wan nodded solemnly, murmured, "yes."

Anakin pressed his hands to his forehead, feeling a trickle of tears falling down his cheeks. He couldn't help them—they just came. He thought it to be right, too. "But when Luke and Leia were born—"

"I was there," Obi-Wan interjected. "I was there, with her. I was the one to hold her hand, Anakin. I was there when you couldn't be."

No surge of jealousy, again; he felt the surge of happiness, of praise, towards his old master. He was there for Padmé, his wife, the mother of his children, when he couldn't be. He was _there_…

"She died believing that there was good in you, Anakin," he said slowly, "I can see, now, that she was always right."

A smile through his wet tears shown on his face as he looked up at Obi-Wan. The blade in his heart evaporated away, but the pain was still there. He realized then, though, that the pain and guilt that he suffered through would always be there, until his dying day.

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_A/N_: The next chapter will be the last. Feedback, please! 


	22. fin

Chapter 20

Epilogue

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_Disclaimer_: Since it's the end of the story, George Lucas owns everything. I wish I were him. Except, of course, better looking than him.

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_Many months, even years, later…_

Waiting for them to come out of their school building, the beautiful marble building blocks from Theed Palace, was Anakin's favorite part of the day. He watched the people and creatures walk by, the women pulling their buggies full of home necessities, the men walking quickly home from their workplace, eager to catch the speeder bike race on the Holo at night. He smirked to himself.

Taking a seat on the bench, he glanced at his chrono. Ten standard minutes.

His eyes flashed up and down, back and forth, from the school entrance to his chrono again. He was anxious; it was peaking summer, and he eagerly waited until he and Leia could go sailing again—which would be tonight, for sure…

The first time Leia had laid eyes on the simple blue boat, she had gasped, something that Anakin didn't take lightly. "You like… sailing?" He asked, generally pointing at the small boat.

She nodded innocently.

"I didn't know that."

She cocked her head, "You never asked."

After that, during that harsh winter, they had a sailboat laying away underneath the porch, most likely freezing, snow ridden, unused. Today he'd use it with his daughter—he was excited, something that he didn't know existed in him while he was Vader.

He had changed ever so much since the time he was a sith lord—the dark lord, as he referred to himself, as many referred to him. He remembered that day walking into that bar on Tatooine, that simple pub—and seeing a boy with blue eyes and sandy blond hair. Something had intrigued him; he wasn't so sure at the time, but now he knew.

Luke was more than his son; he was a resistance to the dark side, a light in the darkness. The times he and Luke spent aboard Vader's ship were short, and regretted immensely now that he looked back on it. He treated Luke like he had treated sand on Tatooine—ever so poorly.

That first day… the first time meeting him… he pushed him aboard his ship, he didn't care. He locked a ten year old in a cell for hours, injecting him with truth serum, keeping him in shackles for the lot of the night, and not feeding him.

Insanity.

Anakin grabbed his forehead at this time, remembering the times as Vader. Why had he become such a minion of Palpatine? Why did he agree to such terms? And mainly, why did he kill… innocent _children_?

Oh, right.

For Padmé.

How he missed her! He thought about her everything he saw their children's faces. He thought about her everything they sat down for dinner; when Nandi and Teckla served shuura fruit. He thought about her while listening to the crackling fire. He thought about her every time he looked into Leia's deep brown orbs; every time Luke said something along the same lines of what Padmé had once said.

It felt like a stab in the heart, too.

Sometimes, he could get over the heartache, but sometimes, he _couldn't_. The life of pain he had—_would_ have—caused for her would be horrendous. He probably would have done another terrible thing to her, if she didn't die. Or, worse—she banish completely from him, never wanting to be near him again.

But Obi-Wan had said that she had always believed that there was good in him, _always_—so did Luke, something he had learned she had passed down. He said those were her last words.

Another stab in the heart.

There was another time, with Luke, and it was a milestone. Seeing the faces of young girls and their messenger bags brought back memories of not too long ago. They were sitting after dinner, and Leia began to take the plates to the sink, kindly, and Luke and Anakin were left alone.

His son had cleared his throat, making Anakin look up from the table. Identical blue eyes were seen glowing from the candlelight.

"Dad," Luke said, grunting. He looked around him to make sure they were alone. Anakin nodded, leaning in, "I—um…" the boy looked down at his hands, "I… like this one… this one… this one girl… and…"

A smile arose from Anakin's lips, happy to hear that it wasn't something bad—he nodded.

Luke raised his voice, pulling on the collar of his shirt indicating that it might be a little hot in the room—it wasn't. The boy swallowed. "How'd you ask Mom out?" His voice became high and squeaky, for he was obviously extremely uncomfortable about talking about this.

Anakin couldn't help but laugh.

Puzzled, Luke said, "Why'd you laugh? Dad, this is serious! I need help—I don't know how to… I mean… every time I get near her I'm a speeder crash waiting to happen…" He sunk into his chair.

Anakin leaned back into his seat, proving that he was comfortable. Clinking of plates in the sink could be heard from the dining area. "First off," he started, "I _didn't_ ask your mother out," his straight face twisted into a memorable grin, "I told her I was going to marry her when I was nine years old, and she was fourteen. She thought I was a silly little boy, of course—then I didn't see her for ten years, and then…" his face became straight again, "I was assigned to protect her from an attempt to kill her, and we fell in love."

Luke frowned, obviously displeased that his father had nothing to offer him. "That's it? You didn't ask her out?"

He shook his head.

"Didn't you ask her to marry you?"

Another shake.

"No?"

Anakin shifted in his position, "It was just something we decided together."

"Oh," Luke replied miserably, "Do you have _any_ advice for me, then?"

Anakin but the inside of his mouth, then sucked in a breath, "Wait, what's her name?"

His answer was quick, well prepared, "Mara." His blue eyes sparkled. "She has red hair, Dad, and she's so mysterious and funny and she has something she is hiding, I just know it, and—and I… I can't even talk to her."

"Mara," Anakin repeated. He smiled, obviously about to say something meaningful, "Tell her she looks like an angel."

Now, sitting on the school bench, he chuckled, remembering the equal words of a nine-year-old boy, who knew someday that he'd be something more than a slave reduced to nothing.

Oh, how right he was.

The bell chimed loud enough for Anakin to hear it from across the street, and eager students flooded out of the many double doors. A particular girl with flowy red hair caught Anakin's eye, and he smiled. The girl was with a bunch of other girls, but she wasn't speaking. Her bag was slung over her shoulder casually as she began to walk home. Then, Anakin noticed that the red haired girl, Mara obviously, was with Leia—he smiled.

_Oh, Luke._

He watched Luke stroll out casually as well, and then Luke noticed Leia and Mara in the clump of girls, and Anakin watched the particular scene play out before him.

Leia waved goodbye to her friends, and ran over to Anakin, and hugged him briefly. "Hi, Dad," she said as usual. She looked over, hearing increasingly loud stomping footsteps crossing the street.

"Dad! Dad!!"

Anakin smiled.

"_Dad_! She said yes, Dad!" Luke yelled excitingly. "She actually said yes—to _me_!"

"And you're so surprised? You have my looks—you'll be attracting every woman in the galaxy with my dirty blond hair and blue eyes," Anakin replied wryly, "On another note, congratulations, Luke!"

Leia smiled, "You know she's not that into you, Luke. She's just desperate."

"Shut up," Luke hissed.

Anakin shook his head, looking up into the sky, praising the Gods maybe—

But then, he smiled.

* * *

**FIN**

Author's Note 2: Awww, it's the end of one of my favorite stories. Overall, I'm very pleased. This story started off as a one shot and then grew into something bigger. Originally, I intended to end it with Leia not even being in the story, but I knew I would not do a sequel to include her in it. Leia isn't my favorite character, nor is she particulary fun for me to write about, but I enjoyed putting her in this scenario. I'd like to hear your feedback, particulary my writing style, because I'm not so sure I'm pleased with it. I'm sorry it took me a while to finish this story, but school has been getting in the way. I'd like to thank all over my reviewers and readers; I won't list this names, for there are too many.

Although I will say that I will be starting a Dark Obi-Wan story with an Anakin/Padmé story on the side. My beta reader will be wAcKaMoLe911, and until the story is straightened out and all the kinks are out of the plotline, I will post it, and see what you readers will think. It will be a long story, and a dark one, just to let you know.

I'm still in the process of finishing some other stories that are on longgggg hiatus. I haven't gotten the time to simply update stories and, basically, I've lost interet in those stories. I feel the plotline is dead, or deflating, and it needs working out. Maybe I'll straighten them out when I have time. . . On a side note, I have many simple one-shots I'd like to post that are just floating around in my head.

Thanks for reading! I hope you enjoyed this story, because I know I enjoyed writing it!


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